A Matter of Trust
by xXPhoenix14Xx
Summary: "Everything is going to change, isn't it? The struggle over Albion and the Saxons, the old and new religion, the use of magic and the extermination of it. The stalemate has finally been broken, hasn't it?" Destiny has reached its turning point, and truths have come to light. Yet some truths bring dark outcomes. Can Arthur trust a man surrounded by lies? Magic Reveal. Set after 5x11
1. It Begins

**Love Merlin as much as any other Merlin fan! So I just _had_ to make a story out of it. I mean, come on, I was ****DYING for Merlin to tell Arthur the truth at some point, but the last episode? Really?! No, I WON'T put up with it! So, love it, hate it, just tell me about it: Review!**

* * *

Bright, blinding light. That could only mean one thing, and it wasn't good...

"Rise and shine, Sire!" Merlin's chirpy voice filled the chambers.

Arthur grumbled. He didn't want to get up. He was feeling too down to have to face the court, and the Round Table, AND everybody else.

"Give me two...two min-min-" Arthur fell back on his pillow.

"Listen, Clotpole-" He heard a 'shh' sound interrupt his servant.

"I've got this." Guinevere assured Merlin, leaning down to whisper in the King's ear.

"If you don't get up," whatever the queen said, it worked like- OK, maybe 'magic' isn't the appropriate word considering the circumstances, but Arthur shot up like a bullet.

"Raring to go!" he exclaimed, and pulled back the covers to get up.

"Gwen, how did you do it?!" Merlin asked, jaw on the ground, astounded. Guinevere giggled.

"Don't tell him, Gwen." Arthur warned her. "He's not ready for 'the talk'." Merlin frowned, then the realisation hit him. Hard.

"Wait, you don't mean-" he pulled a disgusted face. "For the love of Camelot, I don't need to hear this!"

The royal couple laughed as Merlin left the room.

"You are fine, aren't you?" Gwen asked her husband. Arthur sighed.

"It's ever since Mordred left, I made a terrible mistake and now it looks like I'm going to pay the price." he said. Gwen laid a hand on his arm.

"You made the decision you believed to be right. If it was anyone's mistake it was the girl's, Kara." she told him. Arthur smiled at her.

"What?" Guinevere laughed nervously. He shook his head slowly.

"This is why I love you." he said softly. Gwen beamed up at him, as he kissed her on the lips.

* * *

"We have reason to believe that Morgana," Leon took a deep breath of anxiety before the Round Table. "Has formed an army, with a fair amount of Saxon's involved, and is heading down to Camelot as we speak."

The members of the Round Table all spoke out at once. The emotions of anger, nervousness and vengeance all echoed throughout the room. But one emotion more than any other stood out most profoundly.

Fear.

Merlin could feel the alarm and trepidation from every noble at the table. He could definitely feel it from Arthur.

It was just one more unnecessary burden on the young King's shoulders.

"Order!" Arthur called out. "How many on her side?"

"They outnumber us 3 to 1, Sire." Leon said.

"How close is she to Camelot?"

"Not enough time to move the army out of the city, if that's what you mean."

"If we hold them off just outside the citadel, we might have a chance." Gwaine added.

"It's our _only_ chance." Percival said. "We don't have many choices in the matter."

"How many are sorcerers?" Arthur inquired. The room fell into deafening silence. Sir Leon paused.

"...if our sources are correct: at least half the army."

The knights drew in a sharp breath as one. Arthur put his hand on his forehead in near hopelessness.

Merlin's eyes briefly betrayed the hint of gold, a sign of him almost unleashing his magic in pure shock.

Half her army. _Half her army._

It was too many. Not for him, for Camelot.

Arthur refuses the aid of magic, even in circumstances as this. He doesn't care if it's a lost cause, because his pride will take over and he'll blurt out something like-

"We need to ready the entire army, gather supplies and make sure the citizens will be safe when my sister arrives. I don't care if the odd's are more in Morgana's favour than ours **(A.N: Just realised, that sounds like a line from The Hunger Games!)**, we still have the best knights the world has ever known and more faith in our hearts. We can still win."

-like that.

But the Round Table seemed to have their own faith restored. The mood lightened with the new found determination.

"Anything else to add before we leave, Sir Leon?" Arthur asked. Leon glanced at the report sheet.

"I don't think so - Ah, there is something. She's not entirely after you and Camelot. There's another person she's after, someone named Emrys."

Merlin's heart almost stopped. How could she possibly know who and where he was-

_Mordred_.

Oh, dear God, Mordred told her.

He looked sharply at Gaius, sitting across from the table. He only saw the famed raised eyebrow of surprise and utter bewilderment.

A thousand thought's bared down on Merlin at once.

Morgana knows who he is. Morgana knows where he is. She knows he's loyal to Arthur. She knows he has to protect him at all costs. What happens if he can't stop her? What does he do if she succeeds in killing Arthur? What if he's forced to use his magic? What if Arthur found out the truth? What if-

...What if Arthur will hate him?

The King and his closest knights realised too late that their friend lost consciousness and crumpled to the floor.

* * *

Merlin woke with a sore head and a dry throat. He sat up on his bed.

What had happened?

Oh. Right, that.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, Merlin." Gaius said, passing a cup of water.

"Thanks" Merlin took the cup, and drank to the last drop. "Is Arthur here?"

"He and Gwaine dropped you off. They left an hour ago. You were out for a while." Before Gaius could carry on, Merlin grabbed his arm.

"She knows. Morgana's out to kill me. And Mordred's on her side."


	2. Can't Hide Forever

**Here is Chapter 2! Hope you enjoy, and the last chapter's message still stand's: Review, Review, Review!**

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned Merlin, that would be a dream come true. Unfortunately, I doubt that would ever happen.**

**(But the great news is that I can make a fan-fiction out of it!)**

* * *

"_Mordred_? Are you sure, Merlin?"

"There is no other rational explanation. Mordred's told her." Merlin said hurriedly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Gaius' expression turned thoughtful.

"I know what you're thinking Merlin. It is not your fault."

"It's ENTIRELY my fault!" the young warlock interrupted. "I could have just tried to gain Mordred's trust and have him grow faithful to Arthur. But no, I just had to go and try to mess with destiny and look where it got me." Merlin sighed.

"I should just learn by now never to control fate."

Gaius sat in silence. Nothing he could say would change his ward's mind.

"Morgana's after you." Gaius pointed out. Merlin nodded. "So in the meanwhile, what are you going to do about Arthur?"

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, and don't start calling me a hypocrite, but I think it's time you told Arthur the truth."

All those years spent at Gaius' side, he started to raise an eyebrow unintentionally.

"Oh, go on then. Say it." he sighed.

"Thank you. You're a hypocrite."

"Merlin, think about it." Gaius stood up, staring down at the boy. "The only reason you hadn't shown your magic before was because Uther would've had your head."

"Yes. The reason now is because _Arthur_ will have my head." Merlin swung his legs out of bed, and made to stand up. He didn't feel as dizzy anymore.

"Gaius, let's be realistic here. Here I am, the most powerful sorcerer in the world, a being prophesied by the druids to either save Albion or destroy it. I have been a servant to the former tyrant King Uther's son, who has grown up to believe that all magic is evil. Add in the fact that both his parents have DIED by sorcery, that makes his hatred grow. And now, you want me to tell him, that I have magic?"

"Well, yes."

Merlin slapped a hand to his forehead in desperation.

"Boy, I know it's hard to believe that after years of telling you never to be so foolish as to reveal your powers, I would like you to tell the king. But Arthur is your friend."

"And you're effectively asking me to ruin that friendship."

Gaius slumped. "How would you like him to find out? By your word or Morgana's?"

Merlin opened his mouth, but no words came out. He stumped him there.

"Maybe I don't have as close a bond of the likes between you and Albion's greatest ruler. But don't you think Arthur will feel more betrayed, if he found out the truth from his sister's lips?" Gaius said softly, before walking to the door.

"You're not getting Arthur, are you?!" Merlin exclaimed, panicked. He wasn't ready to know, not now!

"Calm down, Merlin. You don't need to tell him immediately." Gaius opened the door. "But I promised that I would inform him of when you woke up."

And with that he left the room.

* * *

After Arthur was told that Merlin had woken up, the servant had gone back to work straight away.

It wasn't until the next day that Arthur noticed something wrong.

The two of them were still acting the same. Arthur complains, Merlin retaliates, Arthur tells him to shut up, and on the special occasion Merlin ends up in the stocks (they would never admit it, but they both secretly enjoyed the banter).

But even though the atmosphere between them was still the same, Arthur could tell something was bothering Merlin.

It would be the tiny things, like how he forgot to insult the king in the morning, or how he gave him a normal, non-moldy bread and apple breakfast.

How, when he knew Arthur liked to take care of his sword Excalibur by himself, Merlin took the liberty to have it sharpened and cleaned anyway.

But all these things added up to the fact that Merlin wasn't quite right.

He was still Merlin. But then he wasn't.

_That doesn't make any sense, dollophead._

Arthur widened his eyes.

He even had to resort to insulting himself, as Merlin was lacking!

That's it. This just got serious.

Later that afternoon, Arthur was sparring with Gwaine. If anyone could give him a run for his money in a sword fight, it was Gwaine. That was why he was the perfect training partner.

Also, Merlin was his best friend.

"Hey, Gwaine-" the king dodged a strike. "-you haven't noticed anything up with Merlin, have you?"

"As a matter of fact I have, Princess-" Gwaine ducked as Arthur swung out. "-he's missing the usual Merlin charm. Not the same since he woke up."

"Huh." Arthur wondered, as he just managed to hit at Gwaine's side. He smiled.

"I win."

"Oh, I could beat you any other day, Pendragon." Gwaine vowed in a teasing tone. "You noble's think you've seen it all!"

"Uh, Gwaine? YOU'RE a noble, now." Gwaine winked.

"Yeah, and it gives me an advantage over the ladies." he laughed.

* * *

"Percival! Have you seen Merlin anywhere?" Gwen asked to the passing knight. Percival frowned, shaking his head in thought.

"No, I don't think I have. May I ask why?"

"Oh, nothing important." the queen said, waving her hand dismissively. "Just an errand Gaius asked of me."

"The last I saw of him, was just a few hours ago, heading outside." Percival recalled. He hesitated slightly.

"Is there something wrong?" Guinevere inquired.

"I can remember that when I did see him, he had a strange expression on his face. Clouded, worried."

Gwen frowned, worried herself. She hoped her friend was alright. If something was bothering him, he should tell her.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but I need to check on the weaponry. Arthur's orders."

"Oh, don't be sorry. Thank you, Sir Percival." And with that they both went on with their journey's.

Gwen kept fretting over her husband's servant when she gazed out of the corridor window.

She saw Camelot's army, the entire city, and the great forest beyond.

_Oh, Merlin_ she thought. _What secret are you hiding from us?_


	3. Destiny's Call

**I present to you...Chapter Three! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, it helps with the extra advice believe me! Thank you to everyone who's followed this tale and added this story to their list of favourites!**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, like I'm ever going to own Merlin! (The sad, sad truth.)**

* * *

The Great Dragon swooped down to the centre of the clearing at the last dragon lord's command.

Ever since Gaius had left Merlin with the life or death choice of telling Arthur the truth, the young servant had been driven insane with the burden. How could he choose this himself? How could he possibly pick whether to tell Arthur and be given a death sentence, or not tell his friend and let Morgana announce his greatest secret?

Either way, it was going to end badly.

Merlin just couldn't decide which would hurt his friends and family more.

"Kilgharrah," he greeted the dragon. "I need to ask you some advice-"

"Young warlock, I already know." the powerful and eluding voice assured him. "But this is not my choice to make. It is yours, and yours alone."

"But _why_?" Merlin insisted. "Why me? _Why_ is it always my choice to tell a truth or a lie? _Why_ is it always me decide the enemies and the allies? _Why_ is it always me that has to..." he hesitated. He didn't want to say it.

"Fulfill a destiny?" Kilgharrah finished for him. The old dragon may always speak in riddles and drive the sorcerer insane at times, but even he pitied the boy with all the responsibilities on his shoulders. The boy who never wanted them in the first place.

"Young warlock, even a dragon as old as I cannot begin to understand just how much you have been through, and just how much more you will have to give up. But I do know that no man need fear the dark, as long as his heart is in the light." Merlin stared into the dragon's timeless eyes. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but he thought he saw the faintest glimmer of a melancholy smile.

"You need not fear the truth, Merlin," he said softly. "If Arthur can find it in his heart to understand. As I'm sure, at some point or another, he will."

Merlin fell silent. He called the dragon to choose for him, and instead gave the warlock a new found insight to what dark days lie ahead.

"I must leave now." Kilgharrah proclaimed, unfurling his magnificent forest green wings. "But know that Morgana is approaching. I dare say, she travels fast. Be prepared for her arrival, Emrys." and on that parting note, he took off into the vast sky. The sky that was rapidly turning from clear blue to piercing indigo.

Merlin hurried back, wondering on Kilgharrah's last message. By the sound of it, you would have thought the dragon was saying Morgana would attack by...

Oh no.

Merlin broke from his gentle pace to a sprint, racing for the castle.

He had to warn Arthur. Soon.

* * *

The king sat in front of his desk, as the last of the sun faded over the horizon, finishing off the long report on the supplies and army. It was necessary, but it didn't make it any the less tiresome.

He signed his name on the document. At last, it was done!

He strode to the door, walking to the training grounds to deliver the report to Sir Leon.

Instead he opened the door to find a panting Merlin blocking his way.

"S...Sire...Uh, give me a second-" Merlin gasped.

"Merlin, I haven't seen you all day, but now isn't a great time for your famous 'I wasn't in the tavern' speech." Arthur said hurriedly, shoving his servant gently aside and walking down the corridor.

"But I WASN'T in the tavern-" he let it go, shaking his head to clear his mind. "Arthur, there's a very strong chance that Morgana will attack tonight!"

The king stopped dead. He twisted round to stare at his friend.

"How do you know?" Merlin struggled to come up with an answer.

"Um, I don't." he answered sheepishly. Arthur rolled his eyes, and continued walking.

"Arthur, maybe I don't have a rational reason, but I really advise that you prepare the army _now_-"

"Merlin, you idiot, I am not going to prepare the entire city for an imaginary attack!"

"Better safe than sorry." Merlin shrugged. Arthur threw his hands up in surrender, and turned the corner to get to the busy front courtyard.

"Unless you have proof, I'm not listening."

"Arthur-"

"You have really got to stop visiting the tavern. Gwaine's a bad influence on you."

"_Arthur_-"

"And the next time you spout out rubbish like this I'm throwing you in the stocks-"

"For once in your life, you clotpole, can you just LISTEN?!" Merlin exclaimed angrily.

You could hear a pin drop, from the silence that echoed from every citizen in that courtyard. Arthur sighed.

"Why should I believe you?" he asked.

"You're just going to have to trust me." Merlin said.

"Any other time, yes." Arthur uttered. "But why now? Why this time?"

"Because when have I EVER steered you wrong?" his servant demanded.

Arthur didn't have an answer to that. The truth was, Merlin was right.

There was a reason as to why he trusted Merlin the most, out of any of his knights, even more than Guinevere.

Merlin was there for him, through thick and thin. He's saved his life countless times in the past, and yet never sought any credit. Merlin was the first person who didn't treat him as a knight, or a prince, or a king. He treated him as a person. That was the only thing Arthur ever wanted. Merlin was the first person who taught him that just because Uther ruled as a tyrant didn't mean that Arthur had to follow in his footsteps.

However, that couldn't excuse the fact that Merlin was the worst servant in the world. He came out with the most idiotic things. Sometimes he created more damage than good, and wreaked more havoc than serenity. He never listened to orders. He never respected the king. And he currently holds the record for the most amount of times a single person has been sent to the stocks. He was the most useless, clumsy thing Arthur had ever met.

He was his best friend. To not trust him now would be to question that friendship.

"Princess!" Gwaine's booming yet troubled voice awoke Arthur from his thoughts.

"Sire, we've spotted Morgana's army beyond the forest! The knight who spotted them only just made it back unscathed." Leon said, breathing shallowly.

"We may have just over an hour before she makes her first move." Percival warned the king.

Arthur stood shell-shocked, turning round to face his servant who had a smug look on his face. The message rang loud and clear.

_Told you so._

"Oh, shut up Merlin." Arthur scowled. Merlin rolled his eyes. Was he ever going to get a thank you out of this guy?

"Get as many people from the lower towns into the castle, they'll be the least protected otherwise. Get the army ready to defend the citadel, and get warn Gaius too. We need the physician to treat as many of the injured as possible." he shot out commands like a natural leader, and his knights went off in all different directions.

"Merlin, make sure Gwen knows what's happening. I'd ask her to stay out of this, but I know she won't listen." Arthur ordered the boy.

"On it." Merlin said, saluting Arthur as he went inside.

"Merlin?"

Arthur's shoulders slumped in what could be taken as a sign of guilt.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen." Merlin smiled.

"Hey, I would think my servant was going crazy too, if I were in your position." he grinned, turning down the corridor.

This is it. Destiny's call. Now or never.


	4. Tried and Failed

**So sorry for the wait, but I've been so busy it's unreal! About a couple of weeks time though, it SHOULD be back to normal. **

**I present to you, Chapter 4. **

**You know the drill: Review!**

* * *

For the next hour, the kingdom was in a chaotic state of preparation.

Everyone from the lower towns were moved into the castle. Though it broke the king's heart, there was nothing they could do for the outlying villages. They were already at Morgana's mercy.

It was the city siege all over again, food stocks increased and more knights defending the borders. Servants were scurrying around trying to attend to everyone at once. Nobles were busy to protect the city's valuable possessions. Families were huddled close inside the citadel, making sure their loved ones were protected at all costs.

Merlin was attempting to do all three.

He had to help Arthur get ready. He had to tell him about his magic, and how it might be of use. He had to make sure that Gwen, and Gwaine, and Percival AND Leon were all okay. And during the battle, he would have to help Gaius attend to the wounded.

He _really_ needed to learn the word 'Workaholic'.

"Merlin, we're fine." Leon said kindly.

"We're knights, it's kind of in the job description to fight." Gwaine grinned. Percival laughed softly.

"It's the ONLY job description." he chuckled. Merlin tried to stifle his laugh. It was rapidly failing.

"Merlin! Arthur needs you!" Gwen called from down the corridor, before sprinting off again to the next poor family. Merlin shook his head.

"I swear, she's the only Queen who would actually fight a whole army and probably win out of pure stubbornness." he marvelled. Leon snorted, before giving him a slight push.

"You heard Her Highness," he said. "Get going! It's _Arthur _you're going to, remember?"

Merlin's expression never changed, but inside his heart plummeted and a ten ton weight dropped onto his shoulders.

Oh boy, this won't be a pleasant conversation.

He's already attempted to reveal his big secret.

But he just had to get the destiny where he was stuck with the most oblivious king of all time, hadn't he...

* * *

_"Arthur, I kind of need to tell you something..." Merlin began._

_It was not ten minutes into the hour of hell that he was with Arthur in the weapons room, polishing the shields whilst Arthur attended to Excalibur personally. As usual._

_"And, this is probably going to make you want to kill me, or banish me, or keep me in the dungeons indefinitely but," he sighed._

_"You deserve to know. I've been harbouring this secret for a while, and you have the right to-"_

_"Merlin, I know." Arthur interrupted gravely. Merlin couldn't help but look astonished._

_"You-you do?!" he asked incredulously. Arthur nodded slowly._

_"Merlin, listen, I know it must be hard for you considering the circumstances," Arthur said, gripping Merlin's shoulders sympathetically._

_"Oh, you have no idea." Merlin muttered, loud enough for the king to hear though. Arthur nodded again._

_"But you have to let it go." Arthur finished. Merlin's surprised yet elated expression changed drastically to downright confusion._

_"Uh, what?"_

_"I know that you two used to be friends, and that it hit you hard that she betrayed us, but Morgana's gone now." Arthur said._

_"Wait, you think," Merlin's eyes widened. "I don't have _feelings_ for _Morgana_-!"_

_"Hey, it's natural to be in denial." Arthur comforted. "But you have to accept it."_

_Merlin's mouth was gaping like a fish._

_"Well, Excalibur's done." Arthur stood, sheathing his trusted sword. "I need to see Guinevere." with that, he took off._

_Tried and failed._

_When Leon and another knight entered the weapons room ten minutes later, Merlin's mouth was still gaping like a fish._

* * *

_"Oy!" the cook shouted. "What're you doing in MY kitchen-"_

_"Oh, for once, just don't!" Merlin exclaimed, storming off. A random memory just popped into his head. It included the cook, an old man, and a saucepan colliding with a head._

**_Should have done that YEARS ago..._**

_Merlin almost laughed. Almost._

_That's how frustrated he was feeling right now. _

_Feelings. For MORGANA. Arthur truly was blind._

_Oh, and there's his royal pain, checking on the food supplies._

_"-We also need any meats to be preserved for as long as possible," He said, directing servants who were nodding vigorously in agreement._

_"Arthur, I've been trying to tell you this on a number of occasions, so is it possible for you to, I don't know," Merlin pondered sarcastically. "Sit down, shut up and listen?!"_

_"Merlin, I don't have the time right now, and I told you not to be in denial-"_

_"It's not that," Merlin sighed, not bothering to try and correct Arthur. "It's something to do with a certain sorcerer Morgana wants other than you."_

_Arthur froze. He turned round slowly to face his servant._

_"Leon never said that this Emrys was a sorcerer." he murmured, just loud enough for Merlin to hear. _

_Merlin's eyes widened at his mistake. Because now Arthur thinks-_

_"You know Emrys, don't you?" He asked, face portraying shock._

_"...In a certain respect, yes." It wasn't a lie, Merlin reasoned._

_It wasn't exactly the truth either._

_Arthur sat down in one of the chairs occupying the kitchen. He was in a state of deep thought._

_"I've been sending patrols to the outlying villages, and knights throughout the lower towns as the entered the castle. They couldn't find any sign of Emrys anywhere." Arthur scoffed. "Now I know why."_

_"You know, not all sorcerers are your enemies," Merlin said, barely masking his fear after seeing Arthur's reaction. "Some are trying to help you."_

_"I don't believe all sorcerers are evil. But, why would they help me?"_

_"Because they know you're different." Merlin said simply. Arthur stared at him poker faced.  
_

_"I don't know what gamble you're taking with this sorcerer Merlin but..." Arthur slumped. "I'm going to trust you. It's not like you've done anything wrong." _

_Arthur walked out of the room, just like the last time._

_And just like the last time, Merlin stood gaping like a fish. _

_Not because Arthur got the wrong message._

_Because Arthur was giving mercy to a sorcerer. Because he trusted the word of his servant._

_That made him feel guilty beyond comparison._

_For Camelot's sake, how was he supposed to tell him now?_

_Tried and failed._

_It was only five minutes this time for Merlin to realise that he had to hook the piece of chicken to the wire for Gwaine and Percival to pull up to the air vents._

* * *

Merlin reached Arthur's (and Guinevere's) chambers just as he finished his flashbacks. He strode right in.

He didn't knock.

Obviously.

"Ah, Merlin, I need some help with the shoulder strap, I can't reach." Arthur said.

"Of course, sire."Merlin said quietly. Halfway through tying the knot he noticed Arthur staring at him.

"What?" he asked nervously. Arthur shook his head.

"You're not normally polite. It's very..."

"Refreshing?"

"Disturbing." Merlin snorted.

"I can't win with you, can I?" he asked. "Make up your mind, Prat."

"There's the Merlin we all know." Arthur teased. Merlin gave a half-hearted smile.

"Arthur..." Merlin hesitated.

"Yeah?"

Now was his chance. He could tell him everything. Maybe that would help stop Morgana.

Or maybe it could ruin everything he worked towards.

Merlin sighed. "Whatever happens out there? Just don't cast any doubts." he said finally, moving to the last strap.

Arthur frowned. "Why do you say stuff like that?" he asked. Now it was Merlin's turn to look perplexed.

"Like what?"

"Every time you say those kinds of serious things, either a bad omen or a miracle always occurs." Arthur explained. "I mean, one of the first times you said that, your friend turned out to be a sorcerer who saved our lives."

Merlin felt hollow inside, he sometimes couldn't get over Will's death. But on the outside he shrugged.

"I'm just that powerful I guess." Merlin said, standing up taller in mock pride, a fake smug grin on his face. His reward was a punch in the arm.

"Shut up, Merlin." Arthur scowled, his servant rubbing his arm.

"Why do you always turn a tease into a boxing match?"

"Oh? So you'd rather it was a wrestling match instead?"

"I never said that."

"You implied it."

"At least I'd _win_ the wrestling match. You'd just trip up on a rope again." Merlin was referring to their second meeting.

"Idiot."

"A brave idiot." Arthur laughed, as did his servant. Merlin fitted the last piece of armour on.

"Done." he announced with a flourish of his arm. Arthur raised his eyebrow.

"You always forget the sword, don't you?" he reprimanded. Merlin's mouth made the shape of an O as he grabbed Excalibur. Arthur stared at the blade.

"I don't know what it is, but this sword just works wonders." he marvelled, before sheathing it.

As soon as he sheathed the sword completely, the city bells tolled the warning.

A small, orange glow grew larger in the chambers.

"She's here." Merlin murmured gravely.

* * *

**Hope you like this chapter! Thank you for all the comments, I've read every one of them, and yes, I'm sorry the reveal wasn't in this one! But don't worry, I'm NOT going to drag it out. I'll try to update soon, oh, and a mention to Mican00 for reminding me that people want to find out more about this!**

**xXPheonix14Xx**


	5. Before the Storm

**Chapter 5! Sorry about the wait, I haven't updated in forever and you're all probably thinking up ideas of revenge (SOS!). But I had TONS of other story ideas racking my brain, and had to write them down! BTW, sorry if Morgana's a bit OOC, I tried my best. Enjoy the chapter though! This one might be a bit of a shocker...**

* * *

In that moment, everything slowed down, and Merlin could pick out every tiny detail. The calm before the storm.

Arthur racing to the door. The knights defending the castle walls. The faintest, yet most illuminating pearl of flames launched into the sky.

The second it hit the closest hut to the castle, all hell broke loose.

Merlin snapped out of his trance, and he followed Arthur's lead.

A couple more heart-stopping explosions later, Merlin made it to the front courtyard, whilst Arthur ran to the front line.

"Help Gaius, do whatever you can!" was Arthur's last words to Merlin before the battle ensued.

For once, he followed his orders.

Merlin ran inside, passing panicking servants and families, running back and forth on Gaius' command.

A good fifteen minutes later, he crossed paths with Guinevere on the stairs. In one of her clutched hands was a dagger. The other, a wet cloth.

"Arthur's not going to like that," Merlin sang in a teasing way, nodding his head to the weapon. The Queen shrugged.

"Then he shouldn't have left the key to the back weapons room lying around," she smirked. Then sang in the same teasing way "What he doesn't know won't hurt him..."

Merlin had to laugh, before stepping aside for Gwen to pass through. He stopped dead a few steps up.

Back weapons room.

_Back._

The south gate.

They missed out the south gate.

* * *

Merlin ran like a madman throughout the corridors. Someone had to defend the south gate. Anybody. They couldn't get through, there is no way they can be let through.

It just had to be the farthest point away didn't it-

That was when he heard the screams.

He pushed open the next door, and found Saxons pressing swords against families, sorcerers igniting fires that enclosed the refugees.

He found Gaius on his knees with a blade at his throat.

He didn't need magic to do this.

Merlin didn't think twice before tackling the offender to the ground, and knock him out using the Saxons own sword.

Gaius looked shocked. Merlin looked confused at just _how _he could do that, before snapping back to the situation at hand.

"Are you OK?" Cue eyebrow.

"Well I've seen better days," Gaius replied sarcastically. Merlin took that as a good sign.

"OY! YOU!" One soldier growled. Merlin looked at the soldiers threatening him, and the sorcerers threatening the citizens of Camelot.

"_Hleap on bæc!_" He whispered.

A golden gleam in his eyes later, and the sorcerers as well as the soldiers were thrown back against the stone walls, knocked unconscious.

"Your powers have gotten stronger." Merlin couldn't tell whether Gaius was feeling gravely troubled or merely curious.

"It worked on them all, that's all that matters."

The fire died, the people sprinted out of the room, thankfully none harmed and they hadn't noticed Merlin using magic. They probably wouldn't care, as long as they stayed alive.

Merlin half supported Gaius out of the room, and straight into a massacre.

Terrified families were fleeing from invading Saxons. Knights fought valiantly and were repaid with fresh wounds. Merlin could spot sorcerers wreaking havoc, using magic wrongly by sending their enemies flying and causing stone walls to crumble to the ground. How the ceiling kept itself up was a mystery to the world.

The soldiers were so strong, they caused Camelot's army to retreat into the castle. The sorcerers were so cunning, they entered through the one gate left unguarded.

Morgana wasn't fighting Camelot. At this point, she was toying with it.

She was like water trickling through a dam. And the dam was ready to burst.

Merlin allowed himself one shaky deep breath, one moment of weakness at the carnage laid before him.

Then his eyes shone the brightest, blinding colour of old gold, and charged.

* * *

Arthur collapsed against the wall, beads of sweat running down his forehead, clutching the deep wound in his gut.

It was by pure chance that he deflected most of the blow at the last second, preventing the sword previously embedded in his stomach to deliver a killing pierce.

Nevertheless, it was still agonizing.

Most of the Saxons were taken out, thanks to Camelot's strong army. But he lost some brave men along the way.

He witnessed the rest of the citizens race out of the castle to safety. He'd have to thank Leon for making that escape route possible.

However, right now, in the darkness of the courtyard, the chilling breeze freezing his every nerve, he could only curse his idiocy.

The south gate. He almost risked the destruction of the kingdom, because he forgot the south gate.

But it doesn't matter, what's done is done. Everyone's OK, that's all that matters.

The sorcerer's were still a problem. He did however run into a few passed out on the floor, hidden by mounds of rubble on his retreat into the castle.

He mentally reminded himself to praise whoever achieved that impressive feat.

Arthur was shaken out of his thoughts, from a clip-clopping sound echoing from the stone ground.

A very familiar sound.

On full alert (ignoring the fire spreading across his abdomen), he leapt to his feet, drawing Excalibur from its sheath and pointing at the shadow

The shadow which stepped into the moonlight, wearing an obsidian coloured gown with pale skin gaunt, her wild ink black hair tangled in some dark halo, and leaf green eyes bold with madness.

Her smile? Turned up in a malicious grin, crazed, glowing with hysteria. It was the smile of nightmares, that sent shivers down the young king's spine.

Arthur had never seen his sister look so ruthless.

"Hello Arthur," Morgana greeted, her voice was still the same. After all these years, all the change, her voice was still the same.

He had to lower his sword dejectedly. "What happened Morgana?" he asked quietly. Morgana was surprised to hear the pain in his voice.

"You ask me that question every time. You should know better than to think I would answer any differently." she responded, her tone very matter-of-fact.

"Maybe I hope that the next time I ask you'd come to see that I'm not our father." Arthur sighed. The mention of Uther caused Morgana's eyes to narrow into snake-like slits.

"Oh? So you've accepted magic? You don't execute fellow sorcerers? Don't be a fool, Arthur."

"I might not have accepted magic," Arthur cut in. "That doesn't mean I've neglected fairness and the people's rights. No matter who they are."

Morgana stayed silent. Her malicious expression vanished, replaced with a disbelieving grimace.

"Well, _well_." she laughed, shaking her head slowly. "Merlin has had a big influence on you hasn't he? What _was_ your reaction to his little secret, by all means, do tell."

That was when Arthur lost the flow of the conversation.

"What's Merlin got to do with this?" He asked confused. Morgana's bold eyes widened. The malicious grin was back.

"I see. He still hasn't told you. Says a lot about how much he trusts you." Arthur became even more confused. What was she talking about? What's Merlin not told him?

...What does she mean his trust?

"I don't have the time for this brother, believe it or not my main priority is _not_ to kill you. Not tonight at least." she added, glaring around the courtyard warily. Arthur frowned.

"Emrys" he murmured. Morgana raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Another thing you should ask that servant of yours." she muttered nonchalantly. "And he's here." she hissed, eyes morphing from green to gold rapidly, the pent up anger unleashing itself through her dark magic.

Arthur's head whipped around, but all he could see was darkness, darkness, darker darkness-

Wait. Darker darkness?

Another shadow appeared from the doorway, the light illuminating half his face. It looked remarkably like...

His thoughts shattered as he felt something hit his head, knocking him into unconsciousness.

* * *

Merlin sighed. He had to do that. He couldn't let Arthur see his magic, not yet.

Strolling past the knocked out king with the copper pot beside his head, he stared down Morgana, the high priestess herself refusing to back down.

"I've always blamed myself for what you've become," Merlin spoke gently, sky blue eyes against a mix of green and gold. "Yet for what you've done? The fault lies with you."

Morgana snarled. "You made the first move with the poison, _Emrys_. Don't forget that."

Merlin stayed silent, only a few steps away from her.

"You've been so shrewd, so sly all these years, Merlin." she continued. "When I first made the connection between the powerful and wise old man in the scarlet robes, and the clumsy young servant standing before me now, I admit. I was impressed."

"Looks can be deceiving. You of all people should know that, Morgana." was the only reply Merlin gave. Morgana grinned evilly.

"Well you've certainly managed to deceive Arthur. I almost feel sorry for my brother." Merlin winced slightly.

That's when Morgana sent the first flare.

"_Forbærne! Ácwele!_"

Merlin jumped out of the way in time, as a round of fire balls shot out in different directions.

As the last of the flames died out, Merlin stood to his feet, his expression turned focused, yet cold. The build up of magic showed in his gleaming gold eyes.

The fight had begun the second Morgana was thrown across the ground.

* * *

Arthur heard the fight long before he witnessed it with his own eyes.

A mixture of foreign words and sharp sounds made his head hurt. Bright light and dark patches were all he could make out through his blurred vision.

Then a clear female voice cut through.

"The difference between you and I, Merlin?" She spoke smugly, if a little breathless. "I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain! Yet you have everything to lose, and what do you gain from this? You truly believe my brother will forgive you when he sees you for what you are?!"

She laughed. "I'm not going to kill you right now, Merlin. Not until Camelot watches it's one hope die slowly before them. Not until I see all your dear friends watch you fade away. And certainly not until I see their hope diminish until there's nothing left but for them to watch _me _take my rightful place on that throne where I belong!"

That was the moment his vision returned all at once.

That was the moment he heard his servant's cry of rage.

He saw everything. The arms shooting out, the foreign words forming on his lips, the unmistakable colour of his eyes. His sister slumping to the stone floor.

His mind was spouting out countless thoughts and words, but only three stood out. Merlin being the first...

Merlin finally noticed Arthur awake, and turned slightly.

...Sorcerer second. And the third...

They locked eyes, Arthur's sending a clear message.

..._betrayal._

Merlin flinched at the look in Arthur's eyes, because it was the same look that had haunted his fears.

That glare of complete disgust and hatred.

Their stares were broken when a huge, slug-like creature landed on Merlin's face.

Arthur spun towards Morgana, who was wearing a triumphant smile on her face.

Arthur decided that smile needn't be there.

He leapt to his feet, drawing Excalibur and stabbed Morgana through her side.

"AGH!" She cried, clutching her side and shying away to the edge of the shadows.

With a grunt Merlin managed to throw the slug off, in which Arthur stabbed that too, finishing it off. It lay next to a box with strange markings on the lid.

"I'm a high priestess, Arthur! You cannot kill me that easily, even if you possess an immortal blade!" She claimed weakly, her breathing harsh from the painful wound. Arthur clutched at his identical wound, the pain making itself known whilst he pointed his blade at his enemy.

"Leave then, Morgana." He ordered in a dangerous tone. Even in her weakened state Morgana managed to have the last word.

"Sweet dreams, Emrys."

Then the breeze took her away. Arthur turned to Merlin, where he lay struggling for breath on the ground.

Traitorous sorcerer or not, he owed him a debt.

And so the king picked up the servant, and carried him inside.


	6. Blissful Ignorance

**New chapter! Just want to say a huge thanks for those reviews, follows and favourites. Enjoy this chapter, might be a bit angsty, but I solemnly swear that I tried my best (and that I'm up to no good...for those who get that reference).**

**P.S, I'm also adding certain events that happen past 5x11, simply because it makes for a good story! So, tiny disclaimer, I don't own certain aspects of this fan-fic, and I'm sure you'll recognise them. No harm done!**

* * *

Gaius, who tried to put off such a thought for a few _decades_, was finally ready to consider retirement.

He should have known ever since he met the boy that he would bring nothing but trouble in his old age. The furious king carrying in his half-dead ward was the final piece of the puzzle.

"Where do I put him Gaius?" Arthur asked, gritting his teeth. From both pain and anger, not a great combination. The blood drained from Gaius' face.

Merlin was extremely pale, beads of sweat trickling down his head and his body shaking uncontrollably. Grabbing his hand, Gaius noticed his wrist prominently displaying the black and gold colours of his veins.

"On the table, now!" Gaius ordered urgently. The king complied, still tense, but from anger or worry he wasn't sure.

Gaius immediately spotted blood seeping from Arthur's hand, the hand pressed to his wound.

"Bandages and water are on the table, sire" he gestured to his right.

"Thank you, Gaius," Arthur said sincerely, getting to work on patching up his side.

Gaius whipped up a remedy for the shaking, but he couldn't work out how to cure Merlin when he didn't know what had happened. And he wouldn't dare ask Arthur in his current mood.

There's a reason his last name originates from fire breathing dragons.

"Arthur, there's something you need to see!" Gwen's voice echoed throughout the silent room. Arthur's expression softened slightly. However, as soon as the queen's eyes reached her friend's sickly form, she gasped and rushed over.

"What happened?!"

"Morgana." Arthur spoke, his voice scratchy since facing his sister. Guinevere heard the raw, undiluted emotion in his voice, but said nothing. She sat beside him, her fingers brushing his hand.

"What did she do?" She asked gently. Arthur tensed once more.

"It's not what_ she_ did." He said strained, his jaw locked. Gwen frowned, opening her mouth to speak, but Gwaine, Leon and Percival beat her to it as they (quite literally) stumbled through the door.

"Has Guinevere told you-" Gwaine stopped halfway through picking himself up from the floor, staring at his best friend.

Then Percival saw. Then Leon.

Nobody could say a word. Arthur couldn't take it any longer.

"He's a sorcerer," he spat, standing up abruptly and walking towards the table, his back turned to the rest and hands gripping the wooden table top.

"He's...what?" Leon stuttered, usually the calm and clear-headed one in any situation.

"Arthur, are you sure-"

"I saw the entire fight between him and Morgana, Gwen!" Arthur exclaimed, grimacing in pain from his wound, spinning round to face them again, witnessing the shock grow on their faces.

Well, not all of them.

Arthur couldn't tear his gaze away from Gaius' blank expression, the sorrow in his eyes that refused to look into the king's.

Gwen and the knights were trying to talk to him, arguing with each other, trying to make sense of the situation. But for Arthur and Gaius time seemed to have froze. Nothing moved forward, and yet everything seemed to be going so fast. His head was working in constant speed, but his heart seemed to have stopped beating, stopped feeling.

"It seems I have a poor sense of judgement on who I can or cannot trust." The king muttered, empty of emotion. He simply couldn't _care _anymore.

He stood up, bringing a spare roll of bandages with him, and walked silently out the door.

* * *

It was amazing that Merlin could open his eyes, let alone wake up from his magical slumber.

He heard the voices before witnessing the scene before him. He wasn't particularly fond of all the shouting, it made his head throb even more.

Speaking of his head, it was currently suffering under the worst migraine in existence. Yet that was only the beginning.

His body felt like it was fighting a war within itself, fire against ice. Cold and clammy skin covering the burning blood in his veins. He felt poisoned all over again, except this was a much graver matter than the poisoned chalice.

His throat was sore, his eyes alternating between gold and blue behind closed eyelids, the dark magic invading his soul trying to force out his own. It was the most agonising experience.

But his _heart_, his heart felt like it was being torn into pieces, being pulled away and tossed around. It wasn't simply agonising, it was excruciating. Partly because of his magic struggling to hold on.

But Merlin had felt this way the second he saw Arthur look at him in disgust.

All of a sudden, he saw the faces of all his friends directly in front of his. The shock caused the mix of magic to fight again, causing Merlin to groan and squeeze his eyes shut.

"Merlin!" He recognised Gaius' voice among the rabble. "I need you to tell me what happened!"

The warlock tried to speak, but the effort involved caused too much intolerable pain.

"My boy, we need to know what Morgana has done to you! It is the only way to save you!"

After a moment, Merlin was able to give a whisper of an answer.

"Spells...Arthur knows...slug-like thing...on my...my face..." With that, exhaustion took over once more, and the sorcerer lost consciousness.

* * *

The moment Gaius heard the words "slug-like thing" he raced off to the nearest magic books. Damn the consequences, it wasn't as if he needed to keep them a secret anymore.

In the meantime, Gwaine went on a king-hunt. His aim? To slap some sense into the king's royal head.

He will admit, he was as stunned as the rest of them after hearing of the events that occurred amidst the battle. I mean, Merlin? A _sorcerer? _Yeah, there's a better chance of pigs flying!

Yet the more Gwaine thought about it, the more it began to make sense.

For example, when the dwarf Grettir at the bridge called him Strength, and another two Courage and Magic. Well, somebody had to be Magic. Why couldn't he see it before? Because suggesting Arthur is Magic is just plain silly.

He never believed that magic was evil. He just assumed that it had always ended up in the wrong hands. He didn't believe it was intentionally bad, but was best to be avoided, not to be trusted.

No matter what Gwaine did, however, he could not place 'evil' and 'Merlin' together in the same sentence **(A/N; Yes, I know I just put those two words together in the same sentence. Ignore please!)**. Merlin was the most loyal person he knew. The first friend of many he made in his new life at Camelot. It was absurd. He could not think of his dear companion as corrupt.

And he could not comprehend how Arthur could suddenly hate his best friend for who he is.

It made Sir Gwaine's temper rise, as it reminded him exactly why he hated nobles and royalty in the first place; They thought that had to have everything done their way.

Everything had to be perfect in their perfect little kingdom, no problem could be tolerated. Crime in the villages? Chop off their heads. Back-chatting a knight? Straight to the pyre.

A family in need after their husband and father has died in battle? Turn a blind eye. Your best friend can pull a rabbit out of a hat and perform a few magic tricks? Throw a temper tantrum.

So when the knight threw open the doors to the king's royal chambers, he expected there to be a wide range of broken furniture, angry shouting and colourful language. For starters.

Seeing Arthur standing idly by the window, shoulders slumped, eyes glassy and not moving a muscle...seeing the lack of hope in his expression...it shocked him into silence.

The fight went out of him, and all he could say in a small voice was "Sire?"

Arthur glanced his way, eyes cast down, so as not to betray his true emotions. His eyes were like windows to his soul, he had to keep them hidden.

This was all Gwaine needed to find his courage again. "This is ridiculous, Arthur. This is MERLIN we're talking about here, you know, the clumsy and loud-mouthed village idiot! You can't stay mad at him forever, not over a simple case of magic."

"Except it's not just a simple case," Arthur spoke, voice barely above a whisper and not a hint of emotion could be heard. "It's years and years of lies, and deceit, and betrayal. The fact he has magic only just scratches the surface, but the fact he couldn't trust me..." he shook his head slowly. "That's a wound to deep to heal easily." Arthur paused again. "I guess it's true what they say. Ignorance is bliss."

Gwaine blinked, taken by surprise at Arthur's explanation. Deafening silence hung between the knights. Suddenly, a light bulb flickered on inside Gwaine's mind. How could he have forgotten?

"We never did tell you, did we?" Arthur looked up, confusion written across his face. Gwaine gave a small nudge of his head that gestured towards the door and led the way, Arthur following in his footsteps after a moment's hesitation.

Out of the chambers, through the corridor...

* * *

"I've found it!" Gaius exclaimed, finding the right page in the right book at last. As soon as he saw the creature though, his face went pale, as understanding dawned on him.

"What _is _that?" Leon asked in revulsion as he saw the illustration on the parchment.

"The Gean Canach," The physician answered in a grave tone. "A creature of the old religion. Conjured from the tears of the Earth Mother Nemaine, it devours the magic of sorcerers. Uther had them wiped out during the Great Purge."

"All but one it seems." Percival said softly.

"So Merlin's magic is gone?" Gwen gasped.

* * *

Past the guards, Gwaine led Arthur down the steps, further into the castle, grabbing a torch on the way...

* * *

"This doesn't explain why Merlin's on the brink of death," Leon said.

"What you must understand is that Merlin doesn't possess magic. He IS magic. He is the most powerful sorcerer in the world."

All three of them gave each other a look, the same thought going through their heads.

_Him?!_

* * *

Arthur found himself at the foot of the dungeon steps, whisked away to the furthest dungeon at the back. There were at least four guards standing in front of that one cell. Something wasn't right...

* * *

"Wait," Gwen's eyes widened. "If Merlin is magic itself, then that creature hasn't just eaten his magic-"

"It has devoured his life force in the process," Gaius squeezed his eyes shut. "Morgana knew this. This could have been prevented if it weren't for..."

* * *

The guards moved aside to reveal a young man hunched on the ground. He looked exhausted, his dark curls a mess, his cheeks sunken, his skin gaunt.

Arthur froze. He knew this prisoner...

* * *

"Weren't for whom, Gaius?" Guinevere pressed. Gaius opened his own eyes to find three pairs of them staring expectantly at him.

* * *

Gwaine gave Arthur a grim smile. The man behind bars opened his blue eyes, turning his head towards his visitors. Arthur gritted his teeth...

* * *

Gaius sighed. "If it weren't for-"

* * *

_"Mordred"_


	7. Bloody Brilliant

**Hello, fellow Merlin fans!**

**I know, I know, I vanished off the face of the Earth. But hey, school's tough in the UK! For those readers in the USA, you get 2 or 3 months off for summer holidays, we get 6 weeks! You've got it lucky :-D**

**But summer is finally here, and I finally finished this chapter. Hope you all like it and PLEASE review, it helps a lot!**

* * *

Despite all he'd done the previous night, after leaving his friends behind and turning his back on Camelot, Arthur was shocked at the sadness in his eyes when he stared at the King.

"Arthur," his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, yet his tone was heavy. Not exactly with guilt, but almost heavy with a tired quality.

The two former friends stayed silent.

Gwaine whistled. "Well, this is awkward."

Arthur and Mordred both glared in disbelief at the Knight. Gwaine raised his hands in defense, shrugging at Arthur.

"OK, OK, I'll leave!" he nodded once to Arthur, sent a blank look that masked his emotions at Mordred, and left. He signaled to the guards to follow him, and soon enough it was King and traitor left behind, separated by iron bars.

"I had no choice Mordred," Arthur murmured. "You know I didn't"

"You could have let her go," Mordred looked up at him. "You could have let us leave in _peace_."

"Except there wouldn't be peace, would there? Kara made that especially clear."

"I could have changed her mind."

"It wouldn't have been enough."

"And executing her WAS enough?!" Mordred screamed. Arthur was taken aback immediately, the power behind the words making him want to cower.

"How would you feel," Mordred said brokenly. "If that was Queen Guinevere? If you had to watch her be sentenced to death, sat behind bars whilst you waited to hear that rope drop? Every second weighing you down whilst you waited for your heart to break, the moment she stops breathing? How her death is on your friend's hands?"

Arthur stared at him, mouth open but words failed him.

"I'm truly sorry," he finally murmured. "For the pain I've caused you, Mordred. I know her death is on my hands, but I never wished it to be. I was thinking of the safety of my people, and I never once considered the feelings of my friend. For that I'm mortified at myself, and sorry for your loss."

Mordred stayed silent, eyebrows knitted together.

"Thank you, Arthur," he said gratefully. "But I don't understand, how is her death on_ your_ hands?"

Arthur frowned. "You said, her death is on your friend's hands..."

Mordred's confusion vanished, replaced with a hatred so strong Arthur himself felt terrified.

"Not you, Arthur," he laughed without humour. "_Merlin._"

Arthur's eyes widened in surprise. Of all answers, he hadn't expected this one. And that meant...

"You knew."

Mordred gave a twisted smirk. "All his magic, all the faith and loyalty I gave to this kingdom and not once did he trust me. The lack of courtesy, I could forgive and forget. But to send Kara straight to the gallows," his hands curled into fists. "That was brutal even for Emrys."

_Emrys. _He knew that name. Of course, Morgana could have told him. But the way Mordred spat Merlin's name told Arthur that Mordred knew about Merlin for a VERY long time. And there was only one group of people who are most certain to know about the being Emrys from the moment they're born...

Arthur glanced at Mordred's shoulder, and there it was. That dark triangle, with the gap in the centre and swirls on the corners of the shape, branded on the skin permanently. His shirt covered most of it, but Arthur could still catch a glimpse of it. Branded into his mind just as it was branded onto Mordred's shoulder.

He knew Mordred grew up as a druid, but not all druid's had magic. To know about Emrys though? To know about magic? The fact that Mordred now sided with an enemy sorceress?

Mordred caught Arthur looking at the symbol, and Arthur didn't try to pretend. Instead he laughed.

"I think my entire army is being overtaken by sorcerers!" he exclaimed, a hysterical grin on his face.

"Arthur-"

"It's brilliant, really!" he laughed again. "Bloody _brilliant,_" That's when he dropped the smile, malice laced into that single sentence like poison.

Mordred wisely said nothing, knowing it would be a waste of time.

"And when, exactly," Arthur asked sarcastically. "Were you going to tell me about this?"

"You thought I'd tell you?" Mordred actually laughed this time. "Don't be a fool, Arthur."

Those words hit the King like a ton of bricks. Only now did Arthur see the resemblance. The same words echoed in his head, only the voice was higher, smoother, and much more sinister.

Mordred was the other half of Morgana.

The realisation made Arthur pale. Mordred was too far gone, beyond help. Maybe he cared about Arthur and the others but it was clear that he would not rest until Merlin was dead at his feet.

"Why don't you just walk out? You are a sorcerer, are you not?"

"Merlin's magic is so out of control, it's giving me a migraine. I can barely concentrate on this conversation, let alone conjure magic," Mordred said with great effort, wincing in pain. "And I'm certain sorcerers all over Albion are the same."

Arthur contemplated this bit of information. He hated magic so much in the past, he never once considered learning about it. Interrupting his thoughts, Mordred inclined his head.

"If it gets rid of him, however, it's worth it."

Arthur looked at him, shocked to the core. Mordred showed no emotion, no hint of regret, leaning back against the dirt encrusted wall.

"Guards!" Arthur called. Every guard that had stood by the cell before returned to their places.

"Make sure he _stays_ there," The King ordered softly, before turning his back on the prisoner and walking out of the dungeons.

* * *

"Gaius, what are you doing?!"

Gwaine took one step inside the door, and suddenly a goblet flew out of nowhere and nearly decapitated him!

All the others were the same. Leon was searching the drawers and cupboards. Percival trashed Merlin's bedroom. Gaius tossed books over his shoulder and Guinevere... good grief, the chambers looked as if a bomb hit with Guinevere in the room.

"Found it!"

Percival ran out of Merlin's room, crouching down low due to his impressive height, with a large piece of parchment in his hand. Everyone gathered round the table when Percy set it down.

"Why Merlin would need a map of Albion in his room I'll never know..." Gaius muttered, shaking his head.

"Gwaine, where were you?" Guinevere asked, worry etched in her features.

"Mordred," he said grimly. The mood of the room dropped instantaneously. Gwaine clapped his hands together. "So, what is going on?"

"Someone tell him," Gaius ordered. Leon was the first to respond.

"Morgana attacked Merlin with a creature that eats magic. However, Merlin is apparently the most powerful sorcerer in the world and is magic itself, so now he's dying. We need to find the Lake of Avalon and ask for this water woman-"

"Lady of the Lake," Percival corrected quietly.

"-on how to stabilise Merlin's magic. So now we're looking for the shortest route possible."

Gwaine blinked. It was a lot to take in, and he was still trying to wrap his head around the whole 'Merlin has magic' thing. Leon rolled his eyes, and resorted to the elusive language of Gwaine.

"Merlin poorly, Lake Lady can make him better." He said slowly. Gwaine's scoffed light heartedly, punching Leon slightly on his arm.

"Your levels of intelligence astound me, Gwaine," Gaius said sarcastically, eyes pouring over the map.

"Ha. Ha." Gwaine said shortly, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Give me a break, it's been a long night!"

"There!" Guinevere announced, pointing out a quick and safe route on the map. "That should do nicely."

"And it bypasses all the main Saxon areas," Leon added thoughtfully, nodding in agreement.

"So who's going with him?"

"I am."

Everyone turned around to see Arthur leaning against the door frame with a blank expression.

"I need answers, and Merlin can give them. And I suppose, in a way, I owe him a debt," Arthur admitted grudgingly. Nobody raised an objection, and so Arthur gave a short nod to close the matter.

Arthur turned his gaze to man lying on the bed in the corner of the room, and his poker face almost faltered. The black and gold veins stood out more than ever, and the sweat trickled down his face at a constant rate. The shaking had stopped at least, but every few seconds his hands would flinch.

"I'll fetch a servant to ready the horses, sire."

* * *

_It just had to be George, didn't it? _Arthur couldn't help but think. At least the man was efficient, getting everything done in 5 minutes flat. But there was something wrong, something missing. Hang on, there was SUPPOSED to be something wrong. There was SUPPOSED to be something missing. It wasn't meant to be efficient, it was meant to be-

_the way Merlin did it._

Arthur shook that ridiculous thought out of his head immediately. The way MERLIN did it was have him delayed for 10 minutes, forget the water skins and having to fix the horse saddle. Who wants that for a servant?

"I'm coming with you."

The voice almost made him jump. He twisted his neck to find his wife with a satchel at her side and standing next to a horse of her own. Arthur sighed.

"Guinevere, it's too dangerous," Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"One, we're taking the safest route possible. And two, I think you need me more than I need you right now." She placed a hand on his cheek. "Merlin's dying, and you're in a considerable amount of emotional pain. Let me help." For the first time in the last 24 hours, Arthur smiled. Genuinely smiled. He bent his head to kiss her, expressing his gratitude.

"OK," he agreed. Gwen beamed, mounting her horse. Arthur did the same, placing Merlin in front of him to make sure he stayed on the horse.

"Oh, and I made Gwaine in charge whilst we were gone," Arthur's jaw dropped in disbelief, eyes wide in horror. Gwen tried to keep a neutral expression, but burst into giggles. Arthur scowled.

"Don't ever scare me like that again!" He said, but soon joined in with her laughter.

"Sorry, but your face!" Guinevere exclaimed. "Don't worry, it's still Leon in charge."

Arthur sighed in relief. With a swift pull of the reins the horses raced forwards, and out of the Citadel.


	8. Believing the Lie

**Hey again! I think this is the fastest I've ever updated!**

**OK, this is more of a filler chapter than anything, but Arthur wants some questions answered, and it does give a few hints about what's to come.**

**So, enjoy the chapter! And if you want a disclaimer so badly, they're on the first few chapters!**

* * *

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MORDRED ISN'T HERE?!"

The scream bounced off the walls, the power causing windows to shatter and people to cower. A Saxon had his feet a couple inches off the cold stone floor, eyes bulging and hands clawing at his neck, as if an invisible rope were strangling him to death.

"I'm sorry, M-my Lady," he gasped. "Fires raged, stone columns crumbled to dust, there was nothing we could do-"

The outstretched hand clenched into a fist, her polished nails drawing blood from her palm. At the same time the Saxon wheezed out his last breath, before collapsing to the ground.

Morgana cried out in pain, the gold of her eyes dimming down, and clutched her head desperately. Her magic rebelled against her, answering to another magic more powerful than her own.

"Emrys should be _dead _by now," her usual smooth voice shook with anger. "How long will it take for him to bite the dust and for this torment to be over?"

No one dared answer. Not to suffer the same fate as the dead man blocking their path to the mad High Priestess.

"One of you search the woodland area surrounding Camelot, search for Mordred. Fetch a horse while you're at it; We ride for Caerleon." Morgana ordered. Her fingertips grazed her abdomen, where the sword wound still settled. If it was an ordinary sword, it should have healed and not left a hint of a scar. Arthur obviously did not possess a mortal blade. He possessed the one weapon that could seal her fate.

"Once Merlin dies and my magic is stable again, Arthur will rue the day he ever laid a hand on that ridiculous sword."

* * *

"Merlin?"

The voice sounded familiar. Gentle, soft, friendly. But Merlin could barely open his eyes to see who spoke. A small, tired groan escaped him, closed eyes melting into a frown.

"It's OK. You don't need to worry; we're just setting you down. Arthur's getting some food down and a fire going."

_Arthur. W_hy would he help him? Didn't he hate him now?

Merlin found the strength to open his eyes, and once he did he found couldn't possibly close them again.

Guinevere sat beside him, clad in a cream and brown dress, an old servant's gown from her days before she was crowned Queen of Camelot. Sunlight passed through the leaves, the greenery glowing from the sunshine. The middle of the forest. He felt the log he was resting on behind his head, and saw Arthur trying to light a fire with flint stones.

He couldn't help it. His magic became his instincts and before he could begin to consider the consequences his eyes shone gold.

Arthur jumped back as the pile of wood lit up in flames, a roaring fire warming all three of them.

His gaze shot up to Merlin, half annoyed and half wary. He wasn't the only one, as Gwen stared also in shock. Merlin winced slightly.

"Sorry," he croaked.

Both royals stared for a few more seconds, before awkwardly turning away again.

Merlin sighed. He didn't feel as sick anymore. The black and gold veins still stood out by quite a bit, but the sweating reduced and the shaking was almost non-existent. A dull pain pulsed in his head after lighting the fire but it wasn't unbearable like before.

He felt like he was being mocked. The illness starts off terribly, you're filled with hope as you believe you're getting better. Then you die the next day.

Life could be cruel like that.

"I'm going to gather some more wood," Gwen announced, giving Arthur a pointed glare before rising and disappearing behind the thick tree trunks.

Silence fell once more. Merlin shifted slightly against the log, trying to get comfortable. His eyes began to droop...

"You tried to tell me before, didn't you?"

Merlin's eyes shot open. He could gather nothing from Arthur's blank expression, but the emotion when he spoke was evident.

Merlin hesitated. "'Tried' being the key word," he gave a sad, tired smile. "I know now I could never have gone through with any of those attempts."

"Why?"

Merlin laced his fingers together, fidgeting anxiously under Arthur's scrutinising gaze.

"Your father would have thrown me on to the pyre for starters. And all those times sorcerers have tried to prove magic could be used as a source for good, it has backfired. The kingdom would have suffered with a distracted king and you wouldn't be able to live with another betrayal. I wanted to tell you...but it was best you didn't know."

Arthur nodded, taking it all in. Merlin relaxed, now that he had given a sufficient answer. Eyes fluttered from tree to tree, drinking in the colours and the light that danced from leaf to leaf.

"Now what's the real reason?"

Merlin's attention snapped back to Arthur, mouth agape in surprise.

"I've told you the reason-"

"No, you've told me several reasons other than the main one," Arthur interrupted. He scowled. "Merlin, I've come to realise that throughout my life, I was either ignoring the truth at one point or believing the lie the next. Just this once, can you tell me what I need to hear other than what I _want _to hear?"

Their breathing was the only sound to be heard. The King's words echoed through Merlin's head, the headache returning very quickly.

"I couldn't do it," he rasped.

"Because you couldn't trust me?"

"Because I was a coward."

Arthur frowned. For all those names he called his servant over the years, all the jokes of him being so terrified, or acting like such a girl, he never once meant any of them.

Merlin could tell what he was thinking. "I knew how much my abilities were worth to the kingdom. I knew you deserved the right to know. Yet no matter how many times I told myself that it was the right thing to do, that eventually everyone would understand... That little part of me could only think of the consequences that would follow. Insignificant, temporary consequences." He sighed heavily, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "And I was scared."

Arthur glimpsed at his servant before focusing on the dirt. He took a deep breath.

"So, now that the emotional bit's over and done with, onto the rest," he announced. Merlin glared at him in disbelief. More questions?!

* * *

Guinevere lugged the all the twigs and sticks she could find for the fire back to the camp. The closer she reached her destination the louder the voices grew. Her lips morphed into a smile as she recognised the voices. They were finally talking.

"...you were the Dolma? That demanding, creepy old lady with the freaky voice?"

"Hey! I was a _good _demanding creepy old lady! And you shouldn't forget that I saved Gwen."

"Merlin, trust me, the only thing I want to forget is you flourishing your hand and saying in a snooty voice 'Set it by the poooool!'"

"Alright, I get the point! Next question?"

"OK, what's with my sword?"

"Excalibur? That actually started out as the best sword Gwen's father ever made. The only way you could defeat the dead knight was if you had a sword forged in a dragon's breath. A sword of immense power."

"An immortal blade," Arthur muttered, echoing his sister's words.

"After Uther used it, I couldn't risk it being used by the wrong hands, only you were ever meant to wield it. So I threw it into the Lake of Avalon. The second time you used it, I retrieved it from the lake. Then, I placed it into a stone in the middle of the forest." Merlin smiled gently. "You know the rest."

"I knew you made up that story!" Arthur frowned. "So you enchanted it so only I could pull it out?"

"No," Gwen heard Merlin speak quickly. "No, I enchanted it so only the true king of Camelot could pull it out."

"Why would you do that, if there was a chance it wasn't me?"

"Because I knew it was you," Merlin simply said. "It was always you Arthur."

Gwen could feel a tear running down her cheek. She knew Merlin wasn't telling the truth. He did enchant the stone so only Arthur could pull it out, but lied to have Arthur's faith restored. Gwen would be forever grateful for Merlin's kindness.

Arthur looked up, sensing another's presence. "Ah, Guinevere!"

Gwen jumped, startled, quickly rubbing away her fallen tear (as best she could with a handful of branches), and joined the pair.

"Grabbed as many as I could," she said, setting the sticks down on to the ground beside the fire. "But we can only stay for an hour or two."

"By the way-" an unexpected coughing fit prevented Merlin from saying more. Gwen patted his back as he cleared his throat. "Sorry. You never told me where we were going."

Arthur and Gwen looked at each other, communicating silently. They both looked back at the sorcerer.

"The Lake of Avalon," Arthur began. Merlin's eyes widened to the size of watermelons, but neither King nor Queen noticed. "There's a witch there, called the Lady of the Lake. She might be able to cure you."

"The Lady..." Merlin trailed off. He shook his head frantically. "W-we can't go there. I mean...I mean surely, there's somewhere else-"

"Merlin what's wrong?" Gwen asked, concern marring her features.

_What's wrong? I have to face Freya again without having to go insane with grief, that's what's wrong!_

But he never made his sentiments known. A loud, deep battle cry cut through the atmosphere. Arthur and Guinevere jumped to their feet as fifteen men jumped out from behind the trees and bushes, armed and ready to fight.

"Bandits," Gwen breathed, grabbing her own sword.

"What happened to 'we're taking the safest route'?" Arthur scoffed, before unsheathing Excalibur and charging towards the first bandit he saw.


	9. As Old as Time

**Yes, I get it, it's been a while. But this is me we're talking about, not even I know when I will next update!**

**This one has a BIG surprise in store, and so will next chapter in fact! But now I'M spoiling things! You better start reading before I say anything else...**

**Oh, and reviews are much appreciated!**

* * *

Everything went wrong the moment both monarchs left the castle.

OK, it did not happen immediately. And to be fair, not _everything _went wrong. However, the problem that occurred was so horrific, so disastrous, that it might as well be counted as everything.

Only a mere three hours had passed since the King, Queen and Merlin set out on their quest. Every knight and noble were doing their best to ensure that the many citizens still taking refuge throughout the castle were fed and protected. Many of their homes were destroyed in the attacks, and the families that still had a home to go to were too weak and distressed to go anywhere.

Gaius cursed whatever god invented old age, just as he finished attending to yet _another_ patient. It was as at times like this where Gaius wished he had Merlin to assist him, or even Gwen for that matter. But no, one was dying and the other was trying to save the dying one.

As excuses go, they weren't bad ones.

Exhausted and in need of a break, the physician left the crowded throne room and strolled down the long corridors.

Just as he was imagining a nice stew for lunch, he opened the doors to find a young girl, with curly red hair and brown eyes sitting at the table.

She stood up immediately, brushing down the skirt of her simple dress, her grave expression wavering into a small smile.

"Hello, Gaius."

"Meredith," Gaius greeted, walking over to her.

She was a sweet girl, never a bother to anyone. Like most of the servants in the castle, she could not read nor write, and she had the common accent of the lower towns. On top of her lack of education was the many mouths she had to feed back at home. If he could recall correctly, she was one of eight siblings at age fifteen. Despite her unfortunate circumstances, she never stopped smiling. She always looked on the bright side of life. So to see her look so troubled was a bad omen, as a general rule.

"I'm sorry, but is it urgent? Because if it is I can certainly attend to you now-"

"It's not me," she cut in hurriedly. Her cheeks turned slightly pink. "S-sorry, I don't mean to be rude, it's just I'm worried, see? And if it's what I think it is then it's VERY bad, and I don't know what to do-"

"Meredith, calm down!" Gaius took pity on the girl. Meredith always had been very nervous, and it especially showed when she spoke. He gestured to the chair she had sat on moments before. "Sit down, and explain."

Meredith hesitated, before gracefully lowering herself into the seat, her hands fidgeting on her lap.

"Well, you know I'm one of the Queen's maids? I don't do much, me, but I do what I can. Well, I have a good memory, you see? So I'm always in charge of remembering the details and dates for Her Majesty. And..." Meredith paused, a worried frown marring her features.

"Yes?" Gaius asked, picking up stray books from the table.

"...at first, I thought I just got the wrong date, you know? Everyone makes mistakes like that. But then I checked. It's not a mistake. The Queen was supposed to be due almost a week ago!"

Gaius' eyebrows knitted together in confusion, the words not quite sinking in. "Due..."

The books dropped to the floor.

* * *

Around half the group of bandits had been taken out in the first few minutes alone.

The horses had already sprinted off deep into the forest, spooked by the sudden shots and war cries. And although Arthur and Guinevere seemed to be handling themselves quite well, Merlin felt useless on the ground like a sitting duck.

Usually he'd be in the background, making the odd branch fall or one of the bad guys trip. However, considering the fact that one tiny spell, one so simple that a child could do it, would kill him then he didn't really have much of a choice in the matter.

He had to admit though, apart from the whole dying thing, it was quite nice to take a break. Like a well deserved holiday from...well, everything!

And of course, if the fight wasn't real, it would be quite entertaining to watch. A comfy chair, some food to snack on, and it would be perfect!

Gwen was surprisingly very handy with a sword. Very basically skilled, but skilled nonetheless. She had already taken out at least six of the bandits.

Even Arthur was impressed. "When did you suddenly become knowledgeable in swordplay?" He knocked out a bandit with the flat side of the blade as he asked this.

Gwen raised an eyebrow, slashing at a bandit's leg, who promptly fell to the floor. "Blacksmith's daughter!"

Merlin hid a grin, and nodded in confirmation to his own thoughts. Definitely entertaining.

All of a sudden, more than a dozen men shot out from behind the trees, and not just bandits.

Saxons, too.

Merlin's face lost colour. Arthur and Gwen stood back to back, swords raised.

There was nothing they could do. Merlin wasn't able to help, and the King and Queen were outnumbered and exhausted. They've ran out of options-

Merlin paused, a spark flickered into being, a spark that could be blown into a flame.

It would send help, and it didn't require magic.

Well. If Arthur was on the path to forgiveness, this will certainly change his mind.

Just as the enemies stalked closer, Merlin let loose a guttural roar;

_"O drakon! E male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"_

Everyone headed the raw power echoed in those words, and it caused different emotions to rise to the surface. Guinevere was worried that he just used magic and would drop dead any moment. Arthur was shocked at this new side of his manservant, never before had Merlin sounded so demanding, so confident as a leader would be. And the attackers were confused on how this scrawny little runt just produced what they believed to be a spell, when all sorcerers were supposed to be magically inept at the present moment.

When the silence dragged on for more than ten seconds, the bandits sneered, snickering mockingly. They raised their swords once more, preparing to charge for the slaughter.

Then fire rained down from the heavens.

Merlin was out of the flames path way. Arthur and Gwen only had time to cower before meeting their deaths, yet the fire seemed to avoid them completely.

The bandits and Saxons on the other hand, were not spared. The torrent of heat and smoke descended on to them, setting them alight in brilliant colours of vermilion and scarlet.

Above the wildfire a dark shadow hovered, with widespread forest green wings, and a face as old as time.

Arthur couldn't believe it. His eyes must be lying, surely. Because what he was seeing now...

Should have _died _a long time ago.

"That's it," he muttered to Gwen with an exasperated sigh. "I'm gonna kill him."

Before Guinevere could reply, a pained grunt occurred behind her. Twisting her neck around, a lone and grotesque bandit stood with his arms raised above his head, covered in soot on one side of his body, and charred to the bone on the other. She caught a glint of steel behind his head, and her eyes widened in panic.

"Arthur!"

He had already took notice of the situation, reaching for Excalibur whilst pushing Gwen behind him, trying to protect her. He knew he wouldn't be able to reach his sword in time, yet still struggled as the bandit's blade swung down for the killing blow.

As if the wind shoved him back, the bandit flew through the air and hit the trunk of a great oak, eyes rolling upwards before his body collapsed onto the cold mud.

Arthur spun on his heel, facing the dark haired man with the outstretched arm.

Eyes shining gold.

For a moment, Arthur felt a surge of emotion, of relief, of gratitude towards the very person he longed to hate. The very person who troubled him.

The very person who saved him.

Then, the moment ended. The veins that had become faint during the journey had now flared a deep, ebony black, travelling all over his arms. Not a hint of gold could be seen, and when the veins flared at his neck, he choked.

"Well, that's not good," somehow Merlin managed to make that sentence sound almost comical, before promptly dropping to his knees.

Gwen ran to grab hold of his arms, trying to support his weight. Sweat trickled down once more, his skin became as pale as a ghost's. That is, if you could see his skin at all beneath the black spiderweb that was the blood circulating his body.

Whilst Gwen tended to Merlin, Arthur seemed to have been glued to his spot in the forest, gaze fixed upon the giant creature who landed on the ground, stretching a wing.

It took a bit longer to realise it was stretching out a wing FOR him, not AT him.

"Well, Arthur Pendragon," the Great Dragon's voice seemed to hold the power of magic itself. "I will not wait all day."

Arthur crossed his arms, frowning in indignation. If the dragon could cross his own arms at the stubborn king, he would.

"Yes, your majesty, I remember well those eventful days. I know that in your mind I ought to be dead. I will answer your questions in due time, but Merlin has called for assistance and so it is Merlin we must assist."

"Arthur," Gwen's urgent tone convinced him to switch his attention to her. Soft, deranged murmurs escaped from Merlin's lips, disconnected sentences that did not make sense. All sorts of nonsense came out, but only one was repeated over and over.

"Freya...Freya..."

Arthur's mind came up blank.

However, it wasn't Merlin that Gwen was so urgent about.

Upon closer inspection, her skin looked clammy. Her head dropped a little bit, her breathing slightly irregular. She held out Merlin as far away from her as she could, and her expression looked...nauseous.

Arthur's eyes widened, and he hurried to take Merlin out of her arms. As soon as he did Gwen ran off, her hand covering her mouth.

Arthur made to follow, lugging his servant's body with him if he had to.

"Arthur Pendragon," the old reptile's voice would be enough to make any king obey. "Your Queen is not harmed, I can assure you that."

"How do you know?"

"I am a creature of the Old Religion," he almost gave a rueful smile. "I do have magic running through these veins. I can assure you that all four of you are under no harm."

"Forgive me if I don't fully put my trust into the creature that almost destroyed my kingdom," Arthur said sarcastically. "I particularly don't see how Merlin can-"

He stopped abruptly, the dragon's last words echoing through his head. He narrowed his eyes dangerously, a hint of fear sneaking past his defences.

"What do you mean _four_ of us?

* * *

"Gaius?"

Leon, Gwaine and Percival found the physician grabbing various items and stuffing them into a satchel. They had never seen Gaius move so swiftly before, it was quite impressive considering his age.

"You must hurry," Gaius warned them, pausing in his panic to look at the clock. "I don't know how far they've travelled by now!"

All three knights frowned in confusion. From behind a pile of books appeared a red haired handmaiden, passing a book to Gaius. She smiled shyly and curtseyed to the knights. "My lords."

A few seconds of silence, which Leon then broke. "Gaius what's happened? What's wrong?"

"Meredith," Gaius called, waving his hand to tell her to explain. Meredith began to wring her hands.

"Well, Her Majesty just set off, but then I checked all the dates for her and, I may have got the date mixed up and now she's gonna fire me, and everyone's gonna hate me, and-"

"Calm down!" All of them ordered in unison. Embarrassed faces could be seen around the room. Percival was the first to recover. "What are you trying to say?"

Meredith was startled by this outburst, but took a deep breath and relaxed again.

"The Queen was due about a week ago."

Everyone had the same reaction Gaius had at first. Furrowed eyebrows of confusion.

Then Gwaine's eyes lit up in understanding. "Oh no. Oh, the Princess is going to get a shock when he finds out!"

"What?" Leon and Percival demanded, still clueless.

Gwaine turned to them, wearing a smile of disbelief. "Gwen's pregnant."


	10. Strawberries

**Hey, long time no see! And yes, I know it's mainly my fault, it's just been busy lately.**

**Just for those who might be confused about last chapter (and I'm going to be quite blunt for all you squeamish types, sorry!), when Meredith says Gwen is due, she means due for her period. Missed period equals pregnant. Got it?**

**Now that I've explained that, thank you SO much for the reviews, favourites and follows! I do read every single review, you know ;-D This is my longest chapter to date by far, so enjoy!**

* * *

Gwen first awoke to the wind whipping across her face before groggily opening her eyes.

Confused momentarily, the memories slowly returned to her. Oh yes, she certainly remembered now. The sickness, the realisation, walking back towards an equally stunned Arthur and-

She sat up straight, head spinning and nearly falling off the back of the huge dragon carrying her thousands of feet in the air! And goodness, the dragon! How could she forget walking back to find Arthur talking to the dragon that he was supposed to have killed? Of course, this was when she fainted into his arms...

And it was now his arms that prevented her from falling to her death.

"Careful, Guinevere," surprisingly his voice was gentle, she expected him to get panicky. She did love it when he said her full name.

"I suggest you hold on tight, Once and Future Queen," the dragon's raspy tenor seemed to reach her very soul. "We are descending to the lake now."

"What do you mean, Once and Future QUEEE-!"

The winged reptile immediately dropped like a rock, gaining more momentum as he dived head first for the glistening lake below.

Gwen held onto Arthur for dear life, whilst he was clinging to both the dragon and the unconscious Merlin seated in front of him.

Oh how could she forget about Merlin of all things? He looked worse now, the intricate web running across his body growing more and his skin turning a troubling grey. You could hardly spot his breathing and his form was as still as an ice sculpture, and just as cold.

He looked dead already.

Tears sprung to her eyes at the thought. Good grief, she's cried more in the past few days than she's had during the whole of last year! Stupid pregnancy hormones.

As soon as the creature landed safely by the lake shore, she slid off his back clumsily, trying to retrieve her sense of balance.

Arthur meanwhile, had the lump called Merlin slung over his shoulder before placing him on the ground, contemplating over everything the dragon - Kilgharrah - told him.

He couldn't forgive him on attacking the whole of Camelot, but Arthur understood why he did so. Uther was not known for his mercy to creatures of magic. And to think it was Merlin (again) who had stopped the dragon from destroying the kingdom! He had to admit, it wounded his pride just a little bit, Arthur thought he had killed him after all.

Gwen's pregnancy was another matter entirely. Ever since he married Guinevere, all he could think about was a little version of him and her, running through the halls of the castle with a happy grin on their face. He still wanted that future, but now? In the middle of a war? It wasn't safe, anything could happen, to both the baby and his wife!

He had already fallen in love with his unborn child. If he lost both the woman and child he loved... He didn't think he could cope.

And now, more problems to add with the situation of Merlin! On top of being a sorcerer, Merlin was a dragonlord too? Well that explained his loud cry earlier on with the bandits. Kilgharrah told him about how Balinor's death gave Merlin the power of the dragonlord because...

...the power was passed from father to son.

_No man is worth your tears._

Oh, how those words felt like a knife in the heart now, never mind how Merlin must have felt! Idiot. If he could only go back in time, if only to stop himself from speaking those words-

"Well, Your Majesties," Kilgharrah said. "This is where I take my leave."

"You're going?" Guinevere frowned.

"I suspect you do not need any more help from me for the time being." The dragon gave a hint of a smile. "You have a great destiny, each of you. Albion is in capable hands."

"Wait!" Arthur said quickly, before Kilgharrah could unfurl his wings. "You speak of destiny, and the future, and Albion in great detail. Do you know what is coming?"

Silence hung in the atmosphere, before Kilgharrah chuckled softly.

"Sire, your destiny was written at the dawn of magic itself, and in usual circumstances destinies have proven to be extremely difficult to change. However, despite my thousand years upon this earth," his yellow eyes shone with irony. "Even I do not know everything. Besides that, it is not always best to know what is coming. It only makes matters worse in my experience."

"Merlin knows, doesn't he?"

"Yes, sire. Although I wouldn't pester him on the subject also."

Arthur couldn't help it, the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

"Thank you, Kilgharrah." He said sincerely, Gwen smiling kindly beside him. The dragon bowed his head, before spreading his wings and flying into the distance. Arthur shook his head in disbelief.

"I just said thank you to a dragon for helping me to get a sorcerer's magic back. The whole of Camelot will have a field day with that one!"

"Arthur Pendragon?"

Arthur spun round in surprise, hand reaching for the hilt of his sword. As soon as his eyes lay upon the speaker however, he relaxed slightly.

A young woman stood ankle deep in the lake, the hem of her violet and cerulean dress soaked. She was quite thin but stood tall, with pale skin and long dark hair. Dark brown irises smiled from almond shaped eyes, along with the small pink lips. She held out her hand almost shyly, wanting to be polite but not wanting to offend.

Tension left Arthur's body, and he removed his hand from his sword. It was clear from everything about this stranger's demeanour that she was no threat. He turned to Gwen who nodded in agreement, and both monarchs stepped towards the woman. Arthur took her offered hand.

"You must be The Lady of the Lake?"

"Indeed Sire, but please," she smiled gently, head bowed down modestly. "You may call me Freya."

* * *

"Gwaine, keep your feet down, will you?"

"Well excuse me if my poor toes need a bit of fresh air from a long day's ride!"

"Then go give them fresh air somewhere else! Your socks smell like they died and were buried in a bog!"

This, was the bickering Percival and his freshly caught rabbits returned to.

He ignored the children, rolling his eyes and placing the fresh game next to their belongings. He was of course, in full agreement with Leon (on the matter of Gwaine's feet, who wouldn't be?). But must they argue over everything?

In actual fact, his internal complaints were more of a distraction from the chaos of the past few days. Morgana attacking, Merlin having magic, Gwen getting pregnant, it was too much. He was built to be a strong knight, not to deal with emotional stress.

He never had to deal with this much stress since the day Cenred's men slaughtered his entire village.

That was one painful memory he wished he could forget, but it was impossible to do so. His was a small village, but it was happy. Children ran, adults laughed, life constituted of work and then play. Cenred destroyed it. He destroyed it all.

If Lancelot hadn't found him when he did...well. He was forever grateful to him.

Suddenly, Percival picked up a faint rustling in the distance. Glancing back at Gwain and Leon, he unsheathed his sword and walked deeper into the forest, carefully avoiding twigs and branches that would give away his position.

As he caught sight of a figure kneeling beside a small body of water, he dodged behind a tree.

The stranger was rubbing their pale arms vigorously, washing away both dried and fresh blood. Their dark brown cloak made it impossible to see their face, yet they did keep a perfect posture and their head held high. Either they were nobility, or simply arrogant.

Nevertheless, they could pose a threat. So Percival stepped away from his hiding place, raised his sword and spoke aloud.

"I order you to show yourself-"

Percival's voice got stuck in his throat when the stranger turned their head.

* * *

_Freya._

That was the name Merlin kept muttering in his delirious state.

Arthur studied her more acutely. Her kind manners, wise eyes. How does Merlin know her?

"If you don't mind me asking," Gwen said, "How is it you and Merlin know each other?"

He knew he married that woman for a reason!

Freya looked slightly startled. It seemed she wasn't expecting the King and Queen to know that. With hesitance she replied.

"I think it best to let Merlin explain everything," her tone was apologetic, and she looked at Arthur as she added, "Some details are best left unsaid."

"Funny, an old dragon told me the same thing not long ago."

Freya smiled with amusement. "Could you please bring Merlin over here? I'm afraid I'm not allowed to leave the lake."

"Why ever not?" Gwen inquired whilst Arthur brought Merlin's unconscious form to the Lady.

"The Lake of Avalon is one of the main gateways to the land of the dead, and I am for all intents and purposes, dead."

Arthur and Guinevere froze, chilled at the thought of speaking to a spirit.

Freya did not notice, kneeling beside Merlin in the cold water, not that she felt the cold. A strange look came across her face, a look Gwen knew all too well, but did not comment upon it.

Her hand hovered over Merlin's chest, flinching as if in pain when her hand reached his heart.

"This is dark sorcery," her voice was low and grave. "It's almost as if something is _eating_ Merlin's magic. I remember the druid elders mentioned a creature, the Gean Canach-"

"That huge slug thing?"

"Yes." Freya looked up at Arthur, whilst Arthur then frowned.

"You're a druid?"

"I used to be," again she looked down, lowering her voice. "I-I was cast out."

Arthur was surprised, he thought the druids never turned away others.

"I thought all sorcerer's couldn't perform magic? How can you heal Merlin?"

"There are a few perks to being the Lady of the Lake. I am guardian of the fallen and of the home of the Sidhe, whose magic is eternal. My own magic is therefore not affected."

Freya nodded in assurance, more to herself than to the monarchs. "There's still time."

She stretched her arm out, her hand moving away from Merlin and over the lake. Closing her eyes, her lips moved but no sound came out.

Then a small glow appeared in the water. A glow that grew larger, brighter, before breaking through the surface abruptly and into Freya's grip.

"The Sidhe are kind," her tone seemed clipped compared to her gracious words. "Despite mistakes made in the past they know now how essential it is that both you and Merlin survive, Arthur Pendragon. That is why they are willing to help you."

In the palm of her hand lay a chipped piece of clear crystal.

"There is a sacred place where magic itself was born, called The Crystal Cave. The crystals have the power to show the past, present and the future. Yet combined with Sidhe magic, they also have the power to heal the greatest of injuries. As the lake is their home, the magic of the Sidhe is in the waters themselves. The wet crystal acts like a bezoar stone. It soaks up the poisonous dark magic, and purifies the soul. Now, Sidhe magic is ancient and powerful, and it is not granted to just anyone. Merlin is also Emrys, he is already powerful, yet his body is still learning to weild his magic. Sidhe magic will certainly speed up the learning process, so be cautious afterwards. And I should warn you, dark magic is untamable and unpredictable, I'd advise you to stand back."

Arthur and Gwen took heed of her words, taking a few steps back.

Heaving a great and tired sigh, Freya undid the strings at the collar of Merlin's shirt and pulled it to the side, pressing the crystal on the bare skin over his weak heart. Her lips parted, and she spoke.

_"Bate séo sáwol, bate se drýcræft, ádée þæt átorcynn, áscilde séo heorte-"_

Over and over, Freya repeated those words. The more she said them, the brighter the crystal glowed, the light seeping through her fingers.

Suddenly she stopped, her eyes flashing gold as they flew wide open. Removing her hand, the crystal seemed to have embedded itself in Merlin's chest. It sunk beneath his skin leaving no mark, but the white glow was still there directly on his heart.

The glow then spread, traveling along the black veins, the dark magic erased. Slowly, signs of life began to appear. Merlin's breathing was no longer shallow, he took in deep and peaceful gulps of air. Freya could feel his heartbeat getting stronger, his pulse thudding against her fingertips.

Gwen smiled in relief. "It's working, he's healing!"

"Yes," Freya's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I was expecting the dark magic to be much more erratic-"

Merlin shouted in pain, his head tossing from side to side. His veins turned black again, pulsing like his heart beat against the white of the crystal and the gold of his magic. They flared every few seconds, as if...

_Trying to escape._

Arthur grabbed his sword, ignoring Freya's warning and rushing to Merlin's side. He passed the sword to Freya.

"You do it. Your more skilled than I am."

"What do you mean, Sire?"

"You need to wound Merlin."

"What?!" Freya jumped to her feet in shock. Arthur huffed impatiently.

"Look, I don't pretend to be an expert on sorcery, but I know enough about strategy, even if it is magic and not war in this case. The dark magic is retreating, it doesn't want to be captured, and it needs an escape, otherwise it will destroy the battle field, which is Merlin."

Freya stared at the King, then at the sword he was offering her. Carefully she took hold of the hilt, placing the tip of the blade over Merlin's chest. She held her breath, before dragging the blade over his heart creating a shallow cut.

The effect was instantaneous. Dark shadows billowed like smoke into the air, throwing back the King of Camelot and the Lady of the Lake. Merlin's back lifted off the ground as the poison tried to leave his body. After the last of the shadows dissipated in the air, Merlin's body relaxed, the crystal glow closing his cut.

A deep rumble of thunder clouds clapped all around them, yet there was not a storm in sight. The crackle of lightning snapped at their ears, yet no bright flash could be seen.

Just then Merlin's expression calmed, his pulse beated healthily, his breathing stabled and blood gave his skin colour again. The veins were gone, and his eyelids opened to reveal blue irises.

Not gold. Blue.

"...Arthur? Gwen?"

Arthur smiled in astonishment, before hastily correcting himself and his face became expressionless.

Guinevere on the other hand, surrounded Merlin in a life threatening hug.

"Don't you ever do anything like that ever again!"

"I can't exactly promise anything," he wheezed, still managing a tired grin. He turned his head to see his surroundings. "Where am-"

He finally saw Freya, standing knee deep in the lake, a smile on her face and tears threatening to fall.

His throat closed up, his eyes prickling. He couldn't stop gazing at the woman before him.

"Merlin?"

Arthur's voice was far away, but he still had to say something.

"Could you, just give me and Freya space to talk? Please?"

Gwen nodded immediately. "Of course."

As Arthur took Gwen's hand as they left the shores of Avalon, he asked, "How do they know each other?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Gwen's lips upturned in a sorrowful smile.

* * *

Merlin never blinked, never turned his head. Not when she walked to the edge of the lake, not when she knelt in front of him, not even when she looked away first. This was a chance he would most likely never get again, and no matter how much pain and guilt he would feel, no matter much it would hurt later, nothing was going to make him tear his gaze away from the _beautiful _girl he lost long ago.

What do you know? Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

"This is only temporary Merlin," her quiet voice shattered the silence. "I can't always be here, not like last time with the gift from the Fisher King. I'm still dead and I cannot leave the lake, and even being in human form as I am now is a rare opportunity-"

"Freya."

His rough voice stopped her, and she glanced up to find his eyes shining with tears, longing.

Merlin reached out, his hand resting against her cheek whilst the pad of his thumb wiped away a fallen teardrop. She felt so cold, he should have expected that. But it reminded him that she was already gone.

Yet it showed him that right now, she was also real. And that was all the reassurance he needed.

"When can you become like this again? Real, staying in the lake, but real?"

"I don't know, maybe once a year? Maybe not even then."

"It doesn't matter." Both his hands were tangled in her dark hair, his forehead resting against hers. "I'll be there. The same day, every year, without question. If a day is all we have, I intend to spend every second with you."

Freya beamed, not believing what he was telling her really, but she was already in love with the idea.

"I could build a house, in front of the mountains."

"Make a small field."

"Plant some wildflowers."

"Bring a couple of cows."

"And all alongside the lake!" Merlin laughed with joy, wanting it to be true more than anything. And just hearing Freya's laugh was satisfying enough.

After a while, the moment died, reality crashing down on both of them.

"I wish I could have saved you," Merlin muttered agonised. "I wish you didn't end up like this."

"Merlin, I told you, you _did _save me. My curse is gone and you were there for me when nobody else could be."

Looking at her again, he drank in every detail. Freya turned away again, shyly unused to the attention. "Why do you look at me like that?"

Merlin slowly exhaled in exasperation, shaking his head.

"After all this time, you still don't understand, do you?"

And just as she raised her head, she felt Merlin's lips crash onto her own.

It felt familiar, safe. Her mind went hazy and a fire ran through her body from head to toe. As his arms circled her waist her hands gripped his neck, never wanting to let go. Lips moved in time, the kiss slow and deep.

It felt right, for the first time in what seemed to be forever, both felt at peace. Felt as if their place was in each other's arms.

It wasn't a bittersweet acceptance of the fates they were resigned to. It was a blatant rebellion against everything that kept them apart. It was proving fate wrong.

They separated, breaths mingling between them, trying to fight the urge to smile. Laughter would ruin the moment.

"I think I understand now," Freya whispered.

Merlin chuckled softly, standing up on his feet and pulling Freya up with him. She raised a hand to gesture to the forest behind him.

"Your friends are waiting," she giggled slightly. "Friends. You're a servant who is friends with the King and Queen of Camelot!"

"Well if it helps, Gwen used to be a servant and I generally refer to Arthur as clotpole, prat, dollop-head, turnip-head, _cabbage-_head-"

"Yes, Merlin, I think she gets the point!"

Merlin spun on the spot to find a disgruntled Arthur and an amused Guinevere waiting patiently by the trees. Holding up a finger to signal for another minute, he turned to face Freya once more.

"I'll come back, just as I promised."

Freya smiled serenely. "Give me a sign, perhaps strawberries?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a red rose," He shrugged. "Same colour, isn't it?"

Tears prickled her eyes again, but this time they were of happiness. Daringly and out of character, she surged forwards and wrapped her arms around him.

Though startled, Merlin automatically returned the hug.

"I would be careful around Arthur," Freya murmured. "He is relieved that you are well but I sense that he's not completely forgiven you."

"I don't blame him." Merlin said.

"Also, I've told the King and Queen this already, but the Sidhe magic has sped up your magic's learning process, and your body needs to learn to deal with the amount of power your magic can do now. Even the simplest of spells can cause problems of giant proportions, so be careful."

"You mean, I'm more powerful than before?"

"You were already powerful," she said. "But now your magic has learned to harness that power. Your body on the other hand, needs to catch up."

Merlin nodded, still processing the information. Freya turned to walk back to the middle of the lake, but he grabbed her arm, looking into her dark brown eyes one more time.

"I love you."

A faint blush rose on her pale skin, but she didn't bother to hide it. "I love you, too."

Merlin's heart raced at the words. He grudgingly released his grip on her arm, letting her walk back to Avalon's depths. She never looked back, but he knew she didn't have to. She'd see him again. He would make sure of it.

He trodded back to Arthur and Gwen, back to good health. To the couple's surprise, Merlin suddenly clicked his fingers.

"Simpleton! I knew I missed a nickname..."

* * *

Leon noticed amidst his argument with Gwaine, that Percival was nowhere to be found.

He turned to their supplies to find two caught rabbits, but no hunter.

"Gwaine!" He alerted the knight. "Percival's gone."

In an instant Gwaine was on his feet, his sword drawn from its sheath.

"What do you mean, Percy's gone?"

"The food he went hunting for is here, but he is not!"

A snapped twig echoed in the atmosphere.

Gwaine and Leon swivelled round and raised their swords.

Only to find Percival with his arm gingerly around a cloaked stranger.

"I'd put the swords down, if I were you."

Percival's tone was cautious, and he nudged his head several times to the cloaked outsider.

Nimble, ladylike hands rose to catch the hood of the cloak, smoothly drawing it back.

Both knight's jaws dropped to the ground, before composing themselves slightly.

"Queen Annis?!"


	11. Not your Average Fool

**Hello, fellow readers!**

**Yes, I know it's been a while, planning to update on Christmas but it's just been SOOO busy!**

**Happy 2016 by the way! I still feel like it's 2015, anyone else still feel that way?**

**So here is Chapter 11, and yes, I finally explain the whole Queen Annis confusion from the cliffhanger in Chapter 10 ( I'm not completely evil, you know! ;-D)**

**I don't think there's much else to add except - well - enjoy!**

* * *

Outside the grey walls of her throne room, thunder rumbled in the distance.

Yet the sound vibrated in Morgana's heart, echoed through her mind.

With a slow grace she rose from her seat, staring at her palms as she leisurely took step after step towards the doors.

One of the guards frowned in concern, walking towards his leader. "My Lady?"

With a glint of gold and sharp foreign words, his heart ceased to beat. His lungs refused the air. His legs failed to keep him standing, as he collapsed on the stones, trapped in an endless sleep.

A delighted chuckle filled the room, followed by the smile of disbelief.

"He's gone," she marvelled. "He's actually gone."

At the small scuffle in the corner, her head rose sternly, staring at the second guard avoiding her gaze.

"You will mention this to no one if you want to keep your life," she stated calmly. "Now go and spread the word; Emrys is dead."

The guard nodded furiously, marching out of the room swiftly. Morgana sighed, looking out of the window.

"Maybe now that everyone's magic is back, Mordred can return."

* * *

It was the crackle of lightning without the bright flash, that caught Mordred's attention first.

He was confused formerly, his head lazily lifting to peak curiously through the bars. But deep down, he knew what it was.

He could almost sense his magic flowing through his body again, free from its previous restraint. It felt...relaxing, comfortable yet relieving, as if he had forgotten how to breathe and was only now testing the feeling of air filling his lungs.

And with the return of his magic, came the return of his energy.

"Goodbye, Emrys," Mordred murmured, glancing at the rusty chains on his wrists.

It was strange. He thought he would feel maybe slight remorse, he thought Merlin was his friend once upon a time after all. But in his heart, there was nothing. Not a hint of grief.

All that mattered now was getting back to Morgana.

With surprising ease he rose from the ground, chains screeching as they dragged on the stones.

Every guard (and there were many) turned and pointed their swords at their former ally.

"Oy!" One guard spat. "Get back in the corner where you belong!"

Mordred knew this guard, Christopher was his name. He was a good person, but he was unfortunately in his way.

"I'm sorry," and Mordred meant it, before muttering "_Unspanne þás mægþ._"

The shackles snapped open and clattered to the floor.

All the guards eyes grew wide in shock. As far as they were told, no sorcerer could use their magic for the time being.

Mordred raised his hands to the lock on the bars of the cell.

Christopher raised his sword, "Wait-"

"_Tóspringe_."

The door exploded, flying towards the guards and knocking them all out.

Mordred tentatively stepped through the smoke, shuffling past the unconscious bodies. Picking up a sword, he studied it briefly, before glancing ahead of him. His blue eyes shining from the small light in the distance.

Alarms went off throughout the castle. Metal clanged against stone, heavy footsteps thudded against the ground, growing louder with each passing second.

And with each passing second, came Mordred's smile.

* * *

Arthur was having a bad day.

First it was Merlin dying. Then it was Guinevere getting pregnant. Next was a magic dead lady who used to be Merlin's past love and now there were a thousand arrows aimed at his head!

But before elaborating on that last detail, there were a few disturbances that occurred beforehand.

As the trio trampled through the forest (as their horses galloped away after being startled by the bandits), Merlin suggested a shortcut of sorts to get home.

Arthur shook his head immediately. "Not a chance, I've had enough magic for one day!"

"Freya said you wouldn't be able to control your magic right now, anyway." Gwen added.

"I know, but what's the harm in a transportation spell?" Merlin asked in an innocent tone. "Look, I'll show you a simple levitation charm, maybe then you'll agree with me."

"Merlin-"

But Merlin was determined to prove his point. Yes, Freya said he still had to learn to control his excessive power, but surely that only applied to powerful spells? A levitation charm a child could do in their sleep for goodness sake!

He chucked his neckerchief to the floor, raising his hand.

Gwen closed her eyes, not wanting to witness the damage.

As he muttered the words, his eyes glowed gold.

"See?" He said smugly. "Absolutely no-"

A loud bang echoed throughout the area, birds screeching and flapping away from the ruffled trees. A bright light and smoke issued from the neckerchief as Merlin was thrown through the air, smashing into the tree trunk behind him!

"Ow!" Was his strangled reply, before collapsing face first on the floor.

Gwen winced, Arthur rolling his eyes.

"Well you're still an idiot, that much hasn't changed."

Merlin groaned whilst picking himself up from the ground, frowning slightly at Arthur's passing comment.

He knew Arthur hadn't forgiven him yet. But did the King really think he would be any different?

Judging from Arthur's tone however, it was clear he had thought that.

"Walking it is!" Guinevere announced. The other two nodded, following her lead.

For hours and hours they wandered on, still no sign of Camelot in sight.

They wandered until their feet ached, until their mouths were parched.

Until they came across a rabbit roasting above a campfire.

Arthur immediately drew his sword, raising a finger to his lips as a signal towards Merlin and Gwen.

As a twig snapped behind them, Arthur spun round.

Clashing swords with a disheveled Gwaine.

With relief Gwaine dropped his sword, grinning cheesily. "Sire!"

Arthur smiled in return, gripping Gwaine' shoulder. "Gwaine! What are you doing here?"

"Well, Gaius sent us to give supplies to Gwen before it was too late - oh, do you know..."

"That I'm pregnant?" Gwen announced dryly, an eyebrow raised. "Yes, suffice to say it was a bit of shock! Better late than never."

"Tell that to one of your maids, she's gone mad with guilt. Can't stop blaming herself!"

"You mean Meredith don't you? Oh poor girl!"

"That was her name. Merlin!" Gwaine finally noticed the now healthy servant behind Guinevere, his eyes gleaming with joy as he surrounded Merlin in a life threatening bear hug.

"Gwaine! Can't breathe!"

"Oh, sorry." Merlin gulped in much needed breaths of air. "Just glad you're back."

"Wait, Gwaine, you said 'Gaius sent _us_'."

"Ah, Percival and Leon are tending to a... Guest."

Arthur frowned sceptically. "A guest?"

"An honourary guest, yes." Gwaine cringed a bit. "I'll show you."

After taking the rabbit off the fire, he led the way to the tiny lake, three figures appearing amongst the trees. Two of them were standing guard, as the third was eating a bowl of stew, a bandage wrapped around their arm.

Leon and Percival jumped to attention as Arthur rounded the corner. "My Lord!"

When the third person turned their head, Arthur's eyes widened to the size of watermelons whilst the stranger rose, brushing dirt from their cloak and carrying themselves... Regally, would be the correct term.

"Arthur Pendragon," Queen Annis declared, green eyes scrutinising. "You're sister is _ever_ the pacifist."

Arthur blinked at the tone of sarcasm. "Uh, I apologise, Your Majesty."

"Well don't be sorry, you have done nothing wrong." Annis said. "Morgana on the other hand, she has gone too far. Almost burned Caerleon to the ground, humiliated my position as Queen, thrown me out of my own kingdom and has forced me to seek refuge elsewhere!" She sighed. "I had heard that Camelot was the only kingdom that has managed to defend their borders against sorcerers and Saxons alike."

"I assure you, Queen Annis, you are most welcome within Camelot's walls." Arthur said. "Your sources however seem to greatly understate Camelot's condition. We still have citizens under protection inside the citadel."

"If I may, Sire," Leon spoke. "Almost half of the citizens homes are already under reconstruction and are leaving the citadel as we speak."

Arthur stood straight, feeling as if the weight of the world were finally off his shoulders. "Thank you, Leon. Wait, didn't I put you in charge of Camelot whilst I was gone?"

"Ah, I have left Sir Brennis in charge in my place."

"Good choice," Arthur murmured. He turned back to Annis. "Thrown out of your own kingdom, did you say?"

A dark shadow passed over the Queen's face, her lips pressed together gravely. "The sorcerers were undefeatable. Their magic prevented Caerleon from defending itself. We never even knew they were approaching until half the knights were slaughtered in front of the castle gates! Morgana herself fought me, mentioning me being one of Camelot's strongest allies. I wouldn't be surprised if every other kingdom in Albion were being put through the same ordeal."

"Morgana is attacking the kingdoms one by one," Percival murmured.

"Camelot is the only safe kingdom left," Gwaine said. "We'll be dealing with a lot of monarchs."

"There are many kingdoms throughout Albion, not to mention Éire! We can't possibly house all of them!"

"Morgana will only want the largest kingdoms, she won't bother with the minorities," Arthur stated. "It will still be a lot of Kings and Queens, but it will be manageable. As for Éire, I doubt Morgana would cross the seas so soon."

A restless pause lingered before Queen Annis sighed.

"So King Arthur, I have told you why I am out all alone in the forest." Her gaze seems to pierce into everyone's souls, trying to seek answers. "Why are you all here?"

Everyone stayed silent, not wanting to mention every detail. They each turned to Merlin, seeing as he had the deciding verdict.

Merlin contemplated for a moment. Yes, his magic was now common knowledge, but only to the small group in front of him right now. Was it worth the risk?

Yet this was no common stranger. This was Queen Annis. She's one of the wisest monarchs in all of Albion, and the greatest ally. It would be an offense to not trust her.

And so eventually Merlin shrugged lightly, giving his permission.

Annis took note of this, eyebrows knitted together in confusion as to why they were listening to a fool.

Arthur breathed in deeply, turning to the Queen. "What do you know of Emrys?"

"Emrys? I have heard rumours of an Emrys, a sorcerer, the one being Morgana fears. You hate sorcerers though, why do you..."

Realisation dawned on her as every eye was glancing at Merlin. She fell silent, before crossing her arms.

"You are more than you appear, it seems."

"Well I'm not your average fool, if that's what you're implying." The ghost of a smirk hovered at the corners of Merlin's mouth.

They explained everything. From Morgana's attack, to Gwen's pregnancy, to Merlin's magic. All the while Annis listened patiently, not passing judgement until she heard what they had to say.

What came at most of a shock to her, was Arthur's almost nonchalance over the matter of his servant's magic. No doubt the young king had probably exhausted his rage when he first found out, but to still keep his manservant at his side? Going as far to save his life? To ask his permission before sharing his secrets?

It was clear their relationship was more than a servant and his king. It was an equal friendship, and it confirmed her suspicions. That Morgana was more like Uther than Arthur ever was.

Her observation in turn led to a conclusion for future reference.

If you want the trust of the King of Camelot, you need the trust of his servant also.

"It seems I have an apology to make," she declared, turning to Merlin. "I have misjudged you, and I shall not make that same mistake again. Although, if you ever come to Caerleon we are looking for a good fool..."

Merlin laughed. "Your Majesty, I'm afraid my fooling days are behind me."

"Fooling day, you mean." Gwen smiled. Annis turned her attention to her.

"How could I forget? You are pregnant! Congratulations, Queen Guinevere!"

Gwen blushed lightly. "Thank you, My Lady. Arthur, I think we should continue on if we're to reach Camelot in time."

"You're right. Merlin, pack everything away. Percival, if you could ready your horses, ours ran off earlier. Gwaine, give the supplies to Guinevere. Queen Annis, you may ride on one of the horses alongside Guinevere, and Leon, we need to discuss the matter of the knights and Camelot."

In just a few minutes they set off once again, closer to Camelot's borders.

An hour later, and they were still deep in the forest.

Arthur was now talking politics with Queen Annis, Merlin staring into space, lost in his thoughts.

"He just needs time."

Merlin jumped at the voice, turning to find Leon smiling kindly at him.

"I've known Arthur since we were both young boys," the head knight continued. "He's the same now as he was then. Too proud to acknowledge the fact that he's still hurting."

Merlin's face fell. "I never wanted to hurt him."

"It was unavoidable either way, it's not your fault." Leon sighed. "Whether after all this time he admits it or not, you're his best friend. Right now however, all he can see is the sorcerer. Give him time, and he'll realise you've only ever been there for him."

A short silence, then a genuine, sincere smile appeared from Merlin. "Thanks."

Leon patted his back in return, continuing onwards.

"There's one thing I still don't get!" Merlin piped up. "You were Uther's right hand man long before you were Arthur's. Of all people, I thought you would be the one to hate me the most for possessing magic. But all this time you haven't even batted an eyelid."

"Well, when I first found out my mind immediately went straight to thinking 'Merlin's a sorcerer; Sorcerers are evil'. But then I realised," and Leon scoffed, shaking his head in amusement.

"It's _you._"

He laughed, saying the words in a tone that suggested the mere thought was ridiculous. Merlin, evil? Yeah right!

And Merlin had never felt such strong respect for Sir Leon in that moment alone.

The moment didn't last.

"HALT!"

The loud cry ringed in their ears, the sound of a thousand taut strings resounding around them. Peeking above, they were trapped inside the circle of many green cloaked figures, targeting arrows at their skulls.

And so we have reached the testing limit of Arthur's patience.

Raising his head high, he glared at the offending party in aggravation. As he was about to make his sentiments known, one figure approached another, the leader of the group it seemed.

"Seren, must you always take the violent approach?"

"Someone has to, don't they?"

A tired sigh escaped the leader. 'Seren' slumped, dropping the bow. The others followed suit.

The leader then faced Arthur and the knights. They froze, before shoving back their hood. A man with an aged face and light grey eyes that matched his shoulder length wavy hair stared at them in surprise.

"King Arthur!"

The name echoed across from person to person. And they knew that with that name, there was a twin.

Craning necks, all locked eyes onto the lanky raven haired boy situated behind the King.

"_Emrys_."

Merlin heard the echoes both aloud and in his head from every cloaked figure, but he payed attention to none. His thoughts were focused on one person, the man of grey; Iseldir, the druid Chieftain.

He would have smiled at him, but the look on Iseldir's face was one of dread. The words that came next caused Merlin's heart to stutter in its rhythm.

"You're meant to be dead."

That was when the spear landed at Arthur's feet.

The scene turned chaotic, many intruders attacking the druids with brandished swords and spears gleaming with the evening light.

"Fire!" Seren cried out, arrows shot into the sky and flying towards their targets. Others raised their hands, chanting spells and charms to protect their side.

"Annis, Guinevere, follow Iseldir now!" Arthur ordered, pulling Excalibur from its sheath, whilst the three knights followed suit.

Both women protested at first, but the reminder of Gwen's pregnancy and the fact that Annis had no heir to Caerleon's throne if she were to die, led to them following the druid elder who in turn led them to safety.

Merlin would have gone with them, knowing there was nothing he could do, but out of the corner of his eye did he spot an attacker raising his sword behind Gwaine, about to strike him down.

Without thinking, he raised his arm.

Gwen's eyes widened. "Merlin, NO!"

Merlin cast a nonverbal stunning spell, eyes changing colour.

Before the spell could reach the attacker, it backfired, retreating back to Merlin.

He felt the spell hit him right in the stomach, winding him. He struggled to breathe, skin turning hot and cold, and his vision went an ebony black.

The last thing he felt was falling back into a pair of limbs, the darkness consuming him.


	12. All for a Name

**Hello again!**

**Chapter 12 has officially arrived, and I'm hoping to get the next chapter in by next month. But hey, I can't guarantee.**

**Here's hoping you like this chapter, it has everything you could POSSIBLY need in a Merlin fanfiction...I think? :-D**

**So, read, review, blahdy blahdy blah! Enjoy! (Seriously. Review.)**

* * *

He watched alongside his knights as his kingdom fell, under a flood of fire, ash and smoke. The throne was taken from him, his people left at the hands of Saxons and sorcerers. Left at the hands of Morgana.

He watched it all under the protection of the forest.

His eyes steeled with determination and vengeance. When he acquired enemies, he made sure to loathe them to the best of his abilities. To do whatever it took to bring them down.

Morgana Pendragon won't know what's coming until it's too late.

"Sir Clyde, did you find out if there are any kingdoms left that have not been taken over?"

"Yes, My Lord," Sir Clyde paused, his monarch wasn't going to like this. With a sigh the knight continued. "Camelot was attacked previously, but the enemy retreated. It remains the only kingdom impervious to Morgana's assault."

He scowled. "Of all the kingdoms it had to be Camelot... Well I hope King Arthur is a better ruler than Uther was. I could do without the poisoned chalices this time round."

Under the midnight sky, Lord Bayard of Mercia turned with a grim smile. "To Camelot we go forth."

* * *

Gwaine groaned, eager to slip back into unconsciousness. It was cosy there, and God knows it was familiar, the amount of times he's drunk himself into a stupor.

Heat tickled the side of his face, and he felt compelled to open his eyes, gaze locked onto a single candle flame.

Past the candle he recognised the interior of a large tent, trunks and books littered around the edges. The candle sat upon a small desk, huddled beside an assortment of pots and jars.

"I hope you don't make a habit of this."

Gwaine's head snapped towards the voice, finding a young women with a cloth and bowl of water perched on the side of the bed he was lying on.

"Habit of what?"

"Of becoming fatally wounded during a fight." Gwaine's eyes widened in alarm, glancing down to find a large bandage wrapped around his torso. The woman shook her head minutely. "One of them managed to pierce your side when you weren't looking. It wasn't a deep stab, but you were losing a lot of blood, I've already changed your bandages twice."

Gwaine didn't speak, trying to remember what happened but failing miserably. "What about-"

"The attackers were either cut down or they retreated, there were only few casualties on our side, including yourself. King Arthur and Queen Annis are not harmed, and Queen Guinevere is being cared for by another healer due to her pregnancy. The knights are fine, one of them has been sent to Camelot, had long hair."

"Leon," Gwaine said. A comfortable silence hung between the two as the girl tended to his injury.

"So, what is your name?" He glanced up, the question spoken softly, a mere murmur.

"Gwaine." The women raised an eyebrow.

"Surely there's a 'Sir' in front?" For the first time since he awoke from his slumber, Gwaine flashed a grin.

"Ah, but you see," his eyes glimmered with humour, "I'm no perfect gentleman."

The girl paused, staring at the knight with the slightest hint of amusement. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I'm sure you will," Gwaine said. "What is your name, then?"

The girl gave a tired sigh before answering. "Seren."

Time seemed to stop for Gwaine. What was it about a name that gave someone a new perspective? Suddenly he noticed everything about her. Elegant yet calloused hands working on his bandage. Her figure was slim but he could see the lean, strong muscles of her arms. Dark brown waves fell past her shoulders, framing an ivory face that looked as if it were cut from marble. Yet the strong features contrasted with rose lips, a small button nose, and round, deep set bottle-green eyes. The kind of eyes that could bestow kindness upon you, or critisise you mercilessly.

Seren. The name suited her like no other.

"You're the girl who ordered the druids to fire at us," Gwaine recalled, frowning. "You know for a druid, you're not particularly peaceful."

"During these times, one cannot always use peaceful methods. We need fighters." Seren said determinedly. "Iseldir may not approve, but it's the only way to defend ourselves if we can't use magic."

"I agree." Seren looked at him astonished.

"You do?"

"You're right. If Morgana's rallying all the sorcerer's she can find, the druids need to be strong enough to fend her off." A small smile appeared on Seren's lips.

"I'm starting to like you, Gwaine." The knight in question laughed heartily.

"Just you wait until I'm fully healed and down at the local tavern, you won't like me so much then!" Seren groaned.

"Oh, you're one of _those_ men," Gwaine's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"What men?"

"The kind that possess a large ego and are drunken fools. I suppose I can add flirting to the list, also?" His smirk grew larger.

"I don't know. Can you?" Even with Gwaine's charms, Seren rolled her eyes. She tightened the bandage a bit, causing Gwaine to yelp in surprise.

"I have not the faintest clue what you're first impression of me is, but let me warn you now; I'm not the type of girl that can fall for a man's empty one liners. Consider me to be someone with a bit more common sense."

And with that she stood, picking up the bowl of water and leaving the tent. All the while Gwaine just laid there, his mind focused on the girl with the bottle-green eyes and fiery personality.

* * *

It was a long night for Merlin.

Before he could crack open a single eyelid, he felt the pounding at the back of his head, courtesy of the backfiring stunning spell. It was bad enough getting a migraine the first time around when he crashed against a tree.

Moaning, he placed his hand behind his head, trying to soothe the ache. Opening his eyes, he sat up on his bed.

To find lots of druid children peeking through his tent.

To say he was mildly surprised would be lying. The sight of what looked like a thousand orbs staring straight through him sent Merlin flying in shock, jumping up and his head once again colliding with a hard object!

"OW!"

Some of the children gasped, others giggled and others ran off, not wanting to offend the great Emrys of whom they were told fantastic legends and stories about.

"What are you all doing here?" Merlin recognised that kind voice.

The druid children apologised and went away, but Merlin could almost sense all the smiles. The tent flap opened, Iseldir entering with a goblet of water.

"Emrys," he greeted, handing over the cup. "It's been quite a while since we've last spoken."

"Please, call me Merlin," he gulped down all the liquid. "Indeed, it's been years."

"That long?" Iseldir marvelled. "Time is a fickle thing."

Merlin gazed curiously at the Chieftain, taking note of his wise words. "Earlier on, you said I was meant to be dead."

Iseldir heaved a large sigh. "There has been word all over Albion, that the Great Emrys had died from the loss of his immortal magic, at the hands of Morgana. We all thought it to be true, we all heard the thunder and lightning and our magic had returned to us. Ever since the news came, there has been an influx of sorcerer's joining Morgana's side, believing her to be truly invincible if she could defeat Emrys himself. The druid camps however, including our own, are still left undecided. Although it looks like now the truth is before our eyes."

"Yes, well. Long story short, Morgana sent the Gean Canach to attack me. It ate at my magic, but because I'm a creature of the Old Religion it ate at my life force as well. I travelled to the Lake of Avalon where I was healed by the Lady of the Lake. The thunder you heard was my magic being restored, not my death."

"Ah, I see!" Iseldir nodded in understanding. "A bit late with the information, but no matter. The damage is already done."

"If you could appeal to the other druid camps, there might be a chance to equal the sorcerer's on Morgana's side," Merlin suggested.

"These are matters we will discuss later. Right now, you are in need of some exercise." Iseldir held out a hand, Merlin taking it and climbing out of the bed.

"Your camp is settled in Lot's land, isn't it?"

"Originally, yes. Unfortunately, Morgana's men have attacked Lot's castle also, and few kingdoms remain undefeated. Camelot was without a doubt lucky to have gotten by. Instead the camp had to move past Camelot's borders, beside the castle in fact." Iseldir said. "I have already checked this with the King, of course."

"Where is he?" Merlin inquired, trying to ignore the stares of wonder and respect from the other druids as soon as he stepped out of the tent. Iseldir pointed forward to the blonde head sat at a campfire, armour removed and clad in a simple crimson shirt, breeches and boots.

"He has had his old stab wound treated, and is well rested."

"I forgot he had that injury," Merlin was surprised, he had not even hinted that the wound was still there or still bothering him.

"He is very strong, it has to be said. I understand he has learned of your magic," the Chieftain's tone was sympathetic.

"He didn't take it well," Merlin muttered.

Iseldir turned to leave, but not before adding, "The only reason he feels betrayed is because he cares in the first place. Whatever insults he throws at you, never forget that."

And before Merlin could open his mouth to respond, the druid had left. Willing his feet to move, he gradually took step after step, until he was sat at the camp fire also, opposite the King.

Arthur didn't object. In fact, he did nothing, not even so much as flinch.

The silence dragged on, Merlin watching the flames flicker in vibrant colours of ruby and amber and hints of sapphire. He saw the glowing embers flying high into the night sky, thick smoke joining the grey clouds above. He imagined all the different shapes he could make from those sparks of light. From majestic dragons to magnificent birds, all manners of magical creatures and inspiring images.

Yet for all his imagination, he could not escape the awkwardness and guilt gnawing at his conscience.

"I'm sorry."

Arthur finally glanced up, scanning Merlin's solemn expression.

"I've only just realised that I haven't apologised yet, for not telling you about my magic. You're right. Maybe I couldn't tell you at first but I had other chances later on. You deserved to know the truth."

Arthur said nothing, until the faintest rueful smile appeared, and he shook his head from side to side.

"You think all this time I've been mad at you for not telling me about your magic?"

Merlin didn't know what to say. He _did _think that was the reason. Arthur breathed out harshly.

"All my life, I've been taught that others could use my position as prince and one day king to their advantage. That they could trick me into doing what they wanted me to do. I expected this from everyone else. I didn't expect the same treatment from those I considered friends. First Morgana, then Agravaine, even Guinevere at one point betrayed me for Lancelot. But you, Merlin?" Arthur laughed lightly. "You were the one constant. I only met you because you were the only one willing to stand up to me, to tell me that I was wrong. That I could do better. Dare I say it, I considered you a friend! I should have realised that you would follow the same pattern as the others. I was tricked, by the people I least suspected."

"Arthur-"

"What did I do?" The King's tone was taking on a desperate quality. "I don't understand what I did to deserve the betrayal. I loved Morgana like a sibling, before I even knew she truly was! I respected my uncle, put my faith in him blindly. I never once needed to question your loyalty, Merlin."

Arthur's eyes shone with frustrated, unshed tears. "Now I'm questioning it incessantly."

"Enough!" Merlin insisted. "Morgause corrupted Morgana, you know that. Agravaine was only interested in revenge on Uther through you, he didn't care about you."

He calmed down a bit, shoulders slumping. "And just because I have magic doesn't mean I was never loyal to you, to Camelot. If you need me to be there like I always am, that's not going to change."

Arthur didn't utter a sound, poker faced as he turned away, looking anywhere but at Merlin.

The servant in question didn't bother to say much more. It would only fall on deaf ears.

His line of vision caught on to the druid groups. Adults rushing from tent to tent with bowls and salves, others in deep discussion. The druid children from before were enraptured by a young man, who cast spells to make the leaves dance around them and butterflies to be born from cupped hands. He couldn't help but smile in amusement.

"You're treated like royalty here."

Merlin looked back at the King, but Arthur's eyes were focused on the fire again, refusing to look into his servant's. He scoffed. "I never thought the day would come where you would be regarded to have a higher status than myself."

Arthur sighed, turning his head as if searching for an answer. "Every druid here, they respect you, worship you even. Most I know for a fact you have never met before yet they would lay down their lives for you in a heartbeat. All for a name; Emrys."

Arthur finally looked at Merlin, his sky blue eyes stained red from the light of the fire. "I asked earlier what you used your magic for. I should have asked _why._"

Merlin remained mute, contemplating on Arthur's indirect request, though he knew it was pointless. He knew the answer.

Arthur wouldn't even consider forgiving him unless he told him the truth.

"Our destiny was a legend before it even began," Merlin explained. "Druid children grew up on the prophecy. That the warlock Emrys would become the servant and equal to the Once and Future King. They would unite the land of Albion and magic would return, the Old and New Religion co-existing beside each other. Peace would reign throughout the kingdoms as the Once and Future King would defeat the evils that threatened Albion, Emrys would be remembered as the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived, the King would be remembered as the greatest king Albion has ever known."

Arthur's mouth was agape in shock.

"All those times I said that you would be a great king, it wasn't false hope," Merlin spoke softly. "I knew from the beginning you were destined for greatness. Yet even if I never knew about the prophecy, even if I never knew I had a destiny to fulfill... I would not have doubted for a moment your capability of being a fair and just ruler."

Arthur frowned, not understanding Merlin's words. Merlin simply shrugged with a smile.

"Don't get me wrong, you were a self-absorbed clotpole when I first met you-"

"Now that's uncalled for!"

"But you grew up," Merlin continued quickly. "Albeit, some of the change was down to Gwen, but you became kinder. More tolerant, respectful of others. You obtained all the makings of a true monarch. And perhaps being your servant was a pain a lot of the time, and I never wanted the job in the first place, but at the end of the day," he paused, attention straying to the ground.

"What?" Arthur had to know, he was too absorbed in Merlin's speech not to know.

Merlin gave the faintest, lopsided smirk. "I wouldn't trade even the _chance _to call you my friend for anything."

Arthur sat stunned, the sentence on a loop in his head. He didn't respond when Merlin rose, wandering over to a group of druids. He simply looked vacantly into the fire, listening to the sound of chatter and bird calls and the biting wind threatening to blow out the light the flames provided.

For goodness sake, how could he stay stubborn at a man who blurted out stuff like _that?_

He could, of course, dismiss his words as lies. He's already lied about his magic, why should this be any different?

Yet...

Arthur's ears pricked up at the sound of childish giggles. Peering behind him, he caught sight of the druid children, young man and Merlin, listening to Merlin's outlandish tales of dragons and sorcery and his trials of being the King's manservant.

Ignoring the fact Merlin was inventing another pitiful insult to call Arthur (seriously, empty-headed numpty?!), one glimpse of that joyful grin, one full of life and humour and silliness, for a moment it made Arthur see.

Made him see that his servant hadn't really changed at all.

And maybe that's what he was so afraid of, the real Merlin not being able to return again.

Arthur moaned quietly, before standing and stretching out his limbs. This was too much to think about this late at night.

Under the ghostly moonlight, he searched for the tent his pregnant wife was currently resting in.

Now...which one was it?

* * *

"What about Cedric?"

"Hmm, I don't think so."

"Richard?"

"Too formal."

"How about Elyan?"

"No, absolutely no family names!"

"My goodness, Queen Guinevere, there must be at least _one _name you like, surely!"

Queen Annis sat back in her chair, hands thrown up in vexation. Gwen was sat upright in her bed, being tended to by druid healers due to her fragile condition at the present moment.

Although it was a nuisance, not being able to do anything. All her life she had been getting by on her own, and now she was stuck in bed and discussing baby names when (according to Gaius' note which came with the supplies) she was only approximately six weeks with child. What's more, this was only boy names. Girl names were up next!

Yet she was given a chance to rest for once, and who was she to pass up such an offer?

"What about you, Bethan?" Gwen asked a druid healer. "Any names you could recommend?"

The healer in question put on a thoughtful expression, light eyes glancing upwards and mousy brown hair framing her heart shaped face.

"I remember before having the boys - my twin sons - I thought up hundreds of names. I went for Alwyn and Daryn in the end, but I did have a few others I liked, My Lady. There was Badan, Corbin, Gareth, Fane. Oh, and I almost went for Maven."

"Hmm, I liked the sound of Corbin, very strong. And Maven," Annis mused, nodding approvingly. "Yes, not very royal, however."

"It is a nice name, so were the others actually. My birth is eight months away, I'll have plenty of time to think of a name by then."

"Very well, My Lady," Bethan poured out a cup of water. "And girl names?"

Gwen's face lit up, a smile growing on her lips. "I already know that one, I told Arthur a while back also. There was this little doll I had growing up, it used to belong to my mother. I carried it everywhere I went, thinking one day I'd have a daughter of my own. So I thought that one day, if I did have a daughter, I'd name it after my mother's doll."

"Oh, bless!" Annis cooed. "What was the doll's name?"

"Linden."

All three women turned to the tent flap, finding Arthur standing with a small sincere smile.

"How long have you been standing there?"

Arthur slightly shrugged, bending down to press a kiss on his wife's forehead.

"Since you asked for Bethan's advice," Arthur grinned. "Personally, I like Gareth."

"Gareth is similar to Richard, it's too formal."

"If we are having a son it must have a kingly name."

"Yes, but then it won't be personal!"

"We can't have it both ways!"

"Married couples," Annis tutted, murmuring to Bethan, who giggled behind her hand. "Me and Caerleon were the same, of course."

"My husband and I argue over the smallest things, My Lady," she pointed to the still quarrelling rulers of Camelot. "This is nothing new."

"Sire!"

Everyone turned to the tent flap, where a bedraggled druid boy was panting, his dark hair in a disarray and grey eyes filled with fear. It was the druid boy who accompanied Leon to Camelot.

Bethan frowned. "Daryn?"

"What happened? Where's Leon?" Arthur demanded, stood upright in a royal manner.

"He is still in Camelot," Daryn breathed. "He asked me to deliver a message of great importance!"

* * *

"Sir Brennis!"

The knight spun around, relief crashing down on him like the tide. "Leon! Thank goodness!"

Leon hopped off his horse, the druid boy Daryn doing the same. He was very good company that boy, had a nice chat with him on the short journey to the castle. Servants came rushing to sort out the satchels and the horses. "I trust you did a good job, then? How is the reconstruction going?"

"Nearly all the citizens can return, only a few are left inside the citadel." Brennis stopped, eyes flitting to the side every so often.

Leon frowned. "What's wrong?"

Sir Brennis sighed. "Morgana has attacked the other kingdoms in Albion."

"Yes, I know that."

"And Camelot was the only one to survive the attacks?"

Leon froze, the candle flickering into being in his head. Almost all the kingdoms conquered, and only one safe haven...

Leon pushed passed Brennis, running inside the castle, down the halls, and into the throne room.

King Lot was situated next to the round table. Princess Mithian was standing beside her father, nursing the large, ugly bruise on her arm. King Odin was staring at the throne in disgruntlement. Lord Bayard was chatting to a Mercian knight.

Not to mention more monarchs pouring in by the minute.

The druid boy, Daryn, appeared by his side moments later. He too was gobsmacked at the scene before him.

"Tell Arthur," Leon spoke in barely a whisper. "To get down to Camelot, now!"


	13. Bitter Rivals

**Hello again!**

**Not gonna lie. This chapter was doing my head in! You'll find out soon enough, so many kings and queens.**

**But anyways, I said I'd get this chapter in by March, glad I finally got there!**

**It's good this chapter arrived in time for Easter, so here's an early Easter treat! Can't wait for all that chocolate...**

**Don't forget to review, I read every single one.**

**You know what's left to say: Enjoy!**

* * *

"My Lady."

Morgana froze, a pleased smile appearing on her lips. Her hidden distress faded away, and she turned and strode towards the voice she had been longing to hear after all this time.

"Mordred!" The witch wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. "What happened?"

"I was caught, locked up in Camelot's dungeons," Mordred pulled away, a grim expression adorning his face. "Merlin's doing, I'm sure."

"At least he is dead now, but it always trails back to Merlin, doesn't it?" Morgana scowled. "I should have seen the signs, ever since he arrived in Camelot, nothing was the same."

"He had all of you fooled, do not blame yourself."

"_You_ knew," she said quietly. "At first sight when you were trying to escape Camelot as a young boy, you knew he was Emrys."

Mordred stayed silent, trying to choose the right words. With hesitance he replied, "I was a druid. I was taught everything about Emrys, from his mere appearance to his destiny. Any druid would be able to recognise him."

Morgana took a step back, the spark of an idea flickering in her narrowed eyes.

"Everything, you say?"

Mordred understood immediately her intentions, spreading his arms out in an open gesture.

"What is it you wish to know?"

Morgana laughed, a dark chuckle that would have even the most courageous warrior cowering in fear. She glanced to the side at the throne, before muttering under her breath. Mordred winced at the sharp sound of cracking stone and splintered wood, watching as the throne of Caerleon crumbled into non-existence.

"Been wanting to do that ever since Annis compared me to Uther," sighing with satisfaction, Morgana patted Mordred's back. "First, why don't you tell me how Arthur managed to obtain a blade forged in a dragon's breath?"

* * *

"Where is the King?"

"If King Arthur will not show-"

"Our kingdoms suffer whilst Camelot's monarch goes galavanting off to who knows where!"

"This is an insult-"

"An outrage!"

"He better have a good explanation-"

Arthur listened to all these complaints behind the doors of the throne room, collapsed tiredly against the stone wall.

As soon as he heard the news, he grabbed his things, got Merlin to fetch a horse and rode off, dragging his knights along with him to Camelot.

Iseldir also followed with Seren, deciding that if there was going to be a war meeting, the druids needed representation.

Leon had never felt so relieved to see those horses gallop towards the castle, some of the stress finally being lifted off his shoulders. Arthur strided forward, his face an impassive mask.

"How serious is it, Sir Leon?"

"All of the five kingdoms, and almost every other kingdom in Albion below Hadrian's wall."

Arthur almost stumbled to the castle doors, his eyes portraying his shock.

"That's nearly twenty kingdoms! How could Morgana have _possibly _taken over twenty kingdoms in the span of a day?!"

"We don't know," Leon all but huffed. "Some of the kings and queens have an answer to that, but at the present moment-"

Queue the complaints from the throne room, as Arthur and Leon reached their destination.

Arthur's ears pricked up, hearing faint voices in the distance paired with the clip-clop sound of delicate shoes.

"I'm sure I know you from somewhere," that voice was unmistakable. "You look very familiar."

Queen Annis, Guinevere and Gwaine rounded the corner, Annis interrogating an unusually bashful knight. Gwaine shrugged nonchalantly, one hand resting on his torso.

"I don't know where you could have recognised me from, My Lady."

"Hmm," Annis' eyes narrowed in suspicion. "It will come to me at some point, Sir Gwaine."

Guinevere meanwhile, glided to Arthur's side, her hand joining with his. Concern gleamed in her dark eyes. "Are you going to be alright with this? Handling all those monarchs, some of those who are not on the best terms with Camelot."

"I'm not exactly jumping for joy, but I can do it," Arthur ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair, "they're in my kingdom, and we are all fighting for the same cause. Someone needs to control the meetings, and the task has fallen down to me. I'll manage."

"I just want you to remember that you're not alone," that was enough to bring the smile back onto Arthur's lips. Gripping his wife's hand tightly, he glanced at Annis, who nodded assertively.

And with a deep breath, he pushed open the doors.

Within seconds, he wished he hadn't.

Various faces, displaying various countenances did not attempt to hide their stares. From Lords to Kings, Ladies to Queens, there was almost every ruler on the isle of Albion in that single throne room.

He couldn't even begin to name all these faces, most he has never met in person throughout his life. It was strange, how he claimed to be a ruler of Albion, and yet he did not know Albion as well as he thought he had.

Was Merlin right? Was Albion truly divided, with almost no hope of ever coming to peace?

But as he glanced at his throne only a few steps away, the wooden chair carved and idolised and commissioned to serve the individuals that had sworn to protect Camelot, Arthur's eyes steeled with resolve.

Times change, and so must they.

"I apologise for keeping you waiting; I've been out of the kingdom for the day to heal my servant wounded in the attacks from Morgana. Please-" Arthur held up a hand to the confused expressions and growing accusations. "I will explain everything later on, as I hope you will all enlighten me on Morgana's attacks on your own kingdoms.'

"Queen Annis has accompanied me from my journey, having escaped her attacked kingdom also," Annis stepped away from the entrance doors, raising her head high. Guinevere followed, returning to her husband's side and taking his offered arm. "I implore you, no matter how many enemies you may have in this room, you do _not _seek out violence of any kind. Regicide in my own home will not go unpunished. We all have one enemy to focus on, and that is Morgana. We need trust in this war that tries to tear us apart, and I will not allow my own sister to break that trust. No matter how fragile it is.'

"I will also make clear as of now, the druids are guests here. You all have your own opinions towards magic, but the druid clans and elders are a peaceful people and have done nothing to deserve abuse from anyone. The same rule of non-violence applies.'

"Now, each of you have had a trying experience and a long journey, and the dawn is almost here. I'll have guest rooms ready in time for everyone to rest, before we discuss anything further."

They continued to blankly stare, at his informal attire, his wife's maid get-up, at the fact that he left his weakened kingdom for a _servant. _They certainly didn't look happy about having to wait, but they did look haggard, fatigued and hurt. A good, few hours sleep would do them a world of favours.

As each ruler left the throne room, some Arthur recognised with either a smile or a frown.

There was King Rodor and the Princess Mithian of Nemeth, the corners of both their mouths tugging upwards. Arthur internally winced at the large gash and bruise on Mithian's arm, and immediately advised her to seek out Gaius.

"It would not do to have any injured guests in Camelot," Arthur said with a stubborn tone.

There were others Arthur remembered. King Taranis of Kent and King Cadmon of Dyffed, both part of the Five Kingdoms. Alongside them were King Alined of Deorham (still as greedy as ever), and King Olaf of Elmet with his daughter the Lady Vivian, whose love enchantment finally seemed to be removed and was back to her rude self, to the relief of Arthur.

A man who Arthur knew could only be King Sarrum II of Amata turned to them with a subtle glare, the younger version of his late father and seeming just as ruthless. Further back a stranger introduced himself as King Pedran of Tír Mòr, only surviving and long lost member of the House of Tregor (Arthur shivered violently afterwards at the mention of Lady Catrina, even if Pedran was talking about the real Catrina his cousin, and not a stinking troll).

King Odin of Cornwall and Dumnonia shared the briefest nod, acknowledging the alliance between their two kingdoms yet stating that the underlying tension was still present. The same was true with Lord Bayard of Mercia. However, after an ongoing war with Camelot and being thrown in prison when falsely accused of attempted murder, who could blame Bayard?

Then another man whom Arthur did not recognise passed by. He had handsome features, short dark locks and ebony eyes, a lady beside him with irises the colour of emerald and long curls of white gold.

The lady, Arthur knew immediately to be Anna, sister to Queen Helena of Gododdin and the Orkney Islands up north, beyond Hadrian's wall. Which meant her new husband...

"King Lot," Annis already greeted, unafraid to raise a sceptic eyebrow at him. "Queen Anna. I haven't had the pleasure of your acquaintance in a while."

"Queen Annis," Lot's voice was deep, authoritative. "I don't think we've met since my uncle was on the throne."

"Yes, before he joined forces with a couple of mad sorceresses."

"Cenred was not known for his intelligence, My Lady," Lot turned to his wife. "Queen Annis, may I present Queen Anna of Essetir."

Anna curtseyed before Annis, a serene smile plastered on her face, but the sharp scrutiny in her eyes could not be missed. "A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace."

Lot had already turned to Arthur and Gwen, politely addressing Guinevere with a kiss to her hand. Yet the look that passed between the two young king's, full of provocation and male bravado, one could easily conclude they would make bitter rivals.

"He may be overconfident like Cenred," Annis murmured as the rulers of Essetir took their leave, noticing the choking hostility with a roll of her eyes. "but he's intelligent, _very _intelligent. Queen Anna is no different, she could have easily surpassed her sister to the throne of Gododdin. Instead she marries the monarch of a richer and much more powerful kingdom. I wouldn't underestimate them, Arthur."

Gwen frowned slightly. "I'm sure Queen Anna had a longer name-"

"Anna-Morgause," Arthur winced at the sound. "Now you see why she never introduces herself with her full name anymore."

More monarchs followed on. There was Lord Rowley and Lady Joan of the Isle of Mora, the ancient King Reynard of Rheged with his sons and daughter behind him, King Lucas and Queen Adelaide of Deira, even the earl of Northumbria Lord Benedict was there.

Finally, Lord Godwyn of Gawant bowed his head at him with a gleam in his eye. Arthur spoke amiably to him, he hadn't seen the man in years, not since...

And there she was. The Princess Elena, far more graceful and carrying poise and elegance. Her grown-up appearance was a strange sight, compared to her once Sidhe-possessed self (Merlin had explained that little story to Arthur). Her cheekbones were prominent, her figure taller and curvier. Her golden locks were curled into ringlets down to her waist instead of her messy strands from before. Yet her round eyes still shone with child-like innocence. Changeling or not, she was not a complete Lady, and Elena was glad for it.

"King Arthur," she greeted with a grin. "It's been so long, last time we met you were still a young prince!"

"You were still a young princess," he agreed, kissing her hand with the common courtesy. He was happy to have met her, but their acquaintance was short lived. Excusing their unwanted wedding, he would have found a great friend in Elena.

Speaking of marriage, Arthur turned to Guinevere, whose head was slightly down. Though very uncharacteristic of her, it was understandable. Gwen may be a queen now, and she may be finally married to Arthur, but Elena made her feel like a servant again. A servant who would never have been considered a wife for her love compared to a noble princess. Who would have been expected to endure it.

Yet Elena beamed, curtseying immediately before the Queen of Camelot.

"Queen Guinevere! I've heard so much about you, My Lady."

"Oh!" Gwen hid her surprise well. She turned to Arthur, but he was in deep conversation with Lord Godwyn. "All good, I hope?"

"Certainly," Elena leaned in with a sheepish smile. "I do remember you from when Arthur and I were engaged, you were at the wedding. Just before he called off the ceremony, he stared at the front row of guests. I believed he was looking at the Lady Morgana at the time. It wasn't until I arrived back in Gawant, I realised he couldn't take his eyes off of you."

Gwen didn't know what to say. Her lips parted to speak, but she couldn't utter a sound. But she didn't have to. Elena leaned back again, honouring the Queen with kindness in her eyes.

"Arthur is lucky to have you. He must really love you to go against tradition to marry you."

Before Guinevere could say a word, Elena and Godwyn went to their chambers, the last to leave.

Arthur sighed, the stress rolling off him in waves. "That could have gone worse."

"You did well," Gwen said. "Though I must say, you and Lot are an accident waiting to happen!"

"It's not my fault if he chooses to act all high and mighty!" Arthur practically squealed in denial, eyebrows rising high indignantly. Gwen couldn't contain her giggles at the sight, until she felt her stomach turn suddenly. Her laughter automatically stopped.

"Gwen?"

"Don't worry, it's the morning." At her husband's blank expression, she elaborated. "Morning sickness."

Caring man that he is, he backed away from Gwen nervously. With a shake of her head, Guinevere hurried out of the room.

"Your Highness."

Arthur faced Iseldir, the druid wearing his cloak and situated by the doors.

"I wanted to thank you," Iseldir's tone was filled with gratitude. "For standing up for our people to the other monarchs. I realise Camelot and the druids are not on the best of terms, but it is a gesture we shall never forget."

The King's heart twinged at the words. So humble and so simple. He remained silent, listening to the sound of his own breathing.

"I once gave my word," Arthur began, "that the druids would be treated with the respect they deserve. I've made many mistakes in the past, committed many wrongs. I intend to right those wrongs, for your sake as well as my own."

Iseldir did not have an answer to that. All he could do was smile, bow, and walk away.

Arthur exhaled heavily, turning on the spot to abandon the dawn lit hall.

The King found his servant stood in the doorway, with his usual gangly form and arms hanging by his side. His face, however, shone with appreciation. His blue eyes glimmered and mouth altered into a crooked grin.

And with a small incline of his head, Merlin left the room also.

* * *

Merlin really had to start wearing a helmet.

He was in high spirits after listening to Arthur's sincere words to Iseldir. He'd waited a long time for even the slightest hope of his destiny being fulfilled. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to bring magic back to Albion after all.

Maybe he had a chance to be forgiven.

However, his happy mood vanished in the blink of an eye when he reached Gaius' apartment.

Don't misunderstand, Merlin was delighted to see the old man again. Opening the door ever so slightly, he peeked around to see the physician's surprised face.

"Guess who's alive?"

Both men, young and old, surged forward. Merlin opening his arms for a hug.

Gaius thwacking his ward round the head.

"OW! FOR THE LOVE OF- Do I have some target on the back of my skull?!"

"Don't do anything that foolish again!" Gaius bellowed, shaking his head like a disgruntled horse. "The Gean Canach, honestly! Have you no sense of self-preservation?"

"You make it sound as if _invited _that slug to feast away at my magic!"

"Knowing you, that's most likely the case!"

"Oh!" Merlin exclaimed, marching to his bedroom door in an exaggerated manner. "Oh, I see how it is! I'll be leaving then, as my efforts are simply not appreciated!"

"You do that!"

A few seconds of glaring, before they cracked and their grins filled the room.

"Get some sleep, boy. I'll be at the meeting with Arthur and the other monarchs, I'll hear all about your day out whenever it's held."

Merlin yawned in response, not realising how tired he was until that point. Fatigue dropped on top of him like a weight, and reaching to touch his face he felt the heavy bags under his eyes.

Turning back, he gave a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Gaius."

Shutting his bedroom door, he dived straight for the bed, collapsing on the sheets and snoring away...

* * *

Seren puffed out a relieved sigh. Although it was a treat to see Camelot's castle, the home of Emrys, the looks she received made the atmosphere so stifling it was almost unbearable.

Right now, her bow and arrows slung on one shoulder and the jade forest surrounding her, she felt at home again.

Only there was one nagging thought that had plagued her mind since walking back to the camp settled outside the city; Why would Iseldir be calling her now?

The camp was protected, the King ensured their part in the council between all of Albion, gave them Emrys. What more could there possibly be?

Unless of course...

Seren knew just like everyone else from the prophecies that Emrys was a dragonlord. It was common knowledge. She knew of his past quest to seek out the triskelion, to bring back the last dragon egg. Where that dragon was now, who knew, but that wasn't the matter at hand.

Meeting Iseldir's grey gaze, she knew exactly what he wanted.

"It's safe," she assured him. "Is it time to reveal it to him?"

"Emrys- Merlin," Iseldir corrected himself, "needs to do this now. Ever since we found the treasure at the tower, we have been putting our lives on the line to protect it. Now King Arthur will need this gift on his side, as the prophecies state."

"The King may be on the path to forgiveness," Seren's voice was wary, "but he would not allow this to occur in his own domain."

"Then we must convince him. Where is it?"

With stubborn silence, Seren strode for her tent. She dumped her weapons on her bed and knelt in front of her iron chest.

Iseldir waited patiently beneath a rose sky, watching the sunrise over the horizon, the start of a new dawn.

Seren stepped out, cradling a solid object in her arms. The druid Chieftain kept his eyes locked on the object in wonder, before glancing at his second-in-command.

"And you're sure Arthur will grant Emrys to do this?" Seren asked cynically. "Emrys still hasn't mastered control of his magic, yet."

"He does not need his magic for this. And unless Arthur accepts, Morgana will have her own magical creature to wreak havoc on this land."

Seren's jaw dropped in astonishment. "The witch? I thought Emrys-"

"Merlin did all he could," Iseldir bowed his head, "the creature betrayed him."

In solemn silence, Seren straightened up, determination shown in her stance.

"We must go."

Nodding, Iseldir followed her back to the castle, glancing every so often to the object nestled in the crook of her limbs.

A midnight black dragon egg.

* * *

Morgana's eyes flared, the gushing heat and tongues of fire reflecting in her irises, so as to make her eyes light up like green flames.

Then the flames were gone, and the cold seeped through her fair skin. Hands gripped a shimmering sword, once plain, now bore the sacred symbols of the dragon tongue proudly. It oozed power and wisdom. Glancing at the snow white dragon before her, she actually smiled a human smile.

"Thank you, dear Aithusa." She spun on the sword holding out the weapon towards the young ex-knight.

Mordred studied it carefully, hiding his amazement beneath an expressionless mask. He withdrew his old sword from its sheath, and stuck it on the forest floor.

"I managed to snatch one of the swords from Camelot before I left," Morgana said. "Arthur sometimes used this, I think Guinevere's father, Tom the Blacksmith, had it made. He always was much better than the court smith."

"This used to be Arthur's?"

"He sometimes wielded it, before that damned Excalibur came along," Morgana scowled, rolling her eyes. "I should have thought of this sooner. I have a dragon, and I have a sword, it's only sensible I make use of such resources."

"It's name?" Mordred asked, taking hold of the hilt and raising it into the morning light. Morgana grinned, but it wasn't happy. It was borderline sadistic, already thinking about what a weapon of such power can accomplish.

"Clarent."

Mordred mouthed the name to himself, feeling the weight of the blade. It was perfectly balanced, easy to slice and stab through the air. It looked fragile, it was anything but.

The High Priestess stood by and watched him work with the sword. The blade to bring Arthur's downfall, if she took her time and planned her moves carefully in this delicate war.

No Emrys. A weapon of equal greatness to the King's.

_This war is yours to lose, brother._


	14. A Thousand Ages

**Hi there!**

**So here's chapter 14! I know some of you were shocked at some parts of last chapter, I know I was! Believe it or not, even I wasn't expecting it until I wrote it! :-D**

**Hopefully your questions will soon be answered. Don't forget to review, I love reading all those comments. And by the way, this is a VERY big chapter!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The midday sun held itself high in prominence, scorching the city below. The citizens (now back in their homes and back to work after the attack) were scurrying about like worker ants, tending to their families, scrubbing floors, and of course gossiping endlessly over the new arrivals in the House of Pendragon.

Speaking of which, after a few hours of rest most of the monarchs seemed to be arriving back to the land of the living. Some were lazing about in bed still. Others sprung into action, washed and dressed in an instant. Some stayed in their accommodations, others took a tour about the castle grounds, and the poor servants - who had been given a morning of working peacefully with no interruptions - were now in a constant state of bowing and curtesying to every noble and royal they met. And there were _a lot _of them now.

The knights had the day off from training, and due to the alternative option of suffering boredom, they all made their way down to the local tavern. Ironically, it was the one building in the lower town that had not been burned down.

The cook was particularly disgruntled. She had been informed in the early hours of the morn that there was to be a feast in the evening, feeding countless royals and nobles, almost twice the size than usual! Let it be said, the other cooks in the kitchen were careful to avoid her wrath. Some were not as fortunate; eye witnesses can account to a serving of porridge being poured on an innocent's head.

For Sir Leon on the other hand, there was no resting. There was no drinking. No training, no working, no wandering. There was standing by a mute King, in the confines of the dungeon walls, and focusing on a broken cell door that hung off its hinges.

"It's been reported that all six guards were found unconscious," he sighed. "And the door blown off. The cause was, most likely-"

"Magic?" It was the first word Arthur spoke since he was told about the escape, and his voice was raspy from the lack of use.

In only a matter of days, Mordred had turned from a pure, moral young man to Morgana's shadow. Following in her dark path to chaos and ruin.

Yes, the magic would have taken time to adjust to. Then again, he still couldn't forgive his own servant. Nevertheless, Mordred was never corrupt. Never disloyal. He was on his way to becoming a great knight of Camelot, and Arthur couldn't wrap his head around how the boy could have so easily thrown away every gift he gave to him; A home, a sword, a friend.

This... This was more than heartbroken vengeance for Kara. The reasons Mordred had for joining Morgana's side, they ran deep into his very soul. Maybe Merlin would have some answers-

The thought struck Arthur like lightning. _Merlin._

Only now did Arthur remember the downright vicious glares he caught Merlin sending to Mordred on more than one occasion. Remembered his reluctance being near the boy, his constant warnings and questioning. Arthur remembered clearly when Mordred sat in this very cell, calmly wishing for Emrys' death. Wishing his efforts had not gone to waste.

Maybe Arthur had not known as much about his manservant as he does now, yet he knew the idiot would not hate a person at first sight, not without reason. Merlin had told him a lot of information already, from the odd magic trick to both of their destinies. Not once has he mentioned nor Arthur inquired, as to why Merlin never trusted Mordred in the first place.

But, if Merlin had not told him by now, would he want to know?

"Sire?"

Arthur was pulled out of his thoughts, Leon's anxious tone bringing him back to present day.

"If you could find someone to fix the cell quickly, the sooner the better. All the guards are fine, yes?"

"Merely faint bruises and slight headaches, hardly worth Gaius' attention."

"Good. And if you could check on the knights quickly, I want them sober enough by tonight's feast."

"What of Mordred?"

Arthur paused, his jumbled thoughts and feelings returning to him. He faced Leon with sombre defeat.

"I think his escape said it all, didn't it? He has no desire to stay."

* * *

For the first time in the past few days, Merlin awoke from a peaceful slumber without his life in jeopardy and with his head intact.

He sat up, a large yawn escaping him. Stretching his limbs out, his gaze wandered around his room. It was messy as usual, but Merlin couldn't be bothered to use magic at the moment.

With a huff, he realised he COULDN'T. Not for the time being, anyway.

The sooner he found someone to help him harness his magic, the sooner he can get back to protecting Camelot. Maybe Gaius could help him, or one of the druids.

Reaching beneath his bed, he pulled out his large spellbook, flicking through the pages to find an easy spell to begin with. Finding the last page, he found writing he never noticed before.

_Property of Gaius Blaise._

Blaise? That's Gaius' last name?

Merlin rose his eyebrows with surprise, a pleasant smile growing. You learn new things everyday, it seems.

The young warlock's ears pricked up. There were voices coming from the next room. A male and a female by the sounds of it.

Carefully hiding the book away, Merlin stood and placed his ear by the door. Sighing with relief, he realised Gaius was simply talking to a patient.

Yes, you may say he's being paranoid. But considering the circumstances, would anyone be taking chances?

He pushed the door open, his eyes landing on the old man, and the woman with her back towards him and her arm outstretched.

"Ah, nice of you to join us, Merlin!" Gaius spoke with faint sarcasm.

"Ha ha," he rolled his eyes. "What is this, pick on Merlin week-"

He choked on his own voice, as the patient turned their head. Golden brown eyes saw straight through him, perfect dark curls surrounding a sculpted, fair face. Her expression was serene, but her cerise lips were not upturned in a smile. It made her overall impression impossible to decipher.

"Hello, Merlin." Princess Mithian greeted.

"Princess," Merlin said. "How's the arm?"

"It will heal. Morgana's army are quite the brutes," She sighed, "I can only be fortunate that Morgana herself was not present in Nemeth."

"Yeah, she was a bit preoccupied in Caerleon with Annis." Merlin sat beside the Princess in Gaius' place.

"I'll be back in a moment, Your Highness, I must attend to a few others," Gaius called apologetically, "but I'm sure Merlin could take over?"

"I trust Merlin. Thank you, Gaius." She beamed gratefully at the physician, before turning back to the servant. Merlin grinned, applying a few potions and salves immediately.

"How is Arthur?"

"Well... Still a prat!" Hearty laughs filled the small room.

"Merlin!" Mithian giggled. "I don't know if it's impertinent or brilliant, how you speak of the King!"

"It's not without consequence, _believe_ me." Merlin's hand ghosted to the back of his scalp.

The last of the laughter died down, calm silence in its stead.

"I know it's not my place," Mithian dubiously began, "but there seems to be tension, between you and Arthur. I've said it before, Arthur values your guidance - no, friendship - above all others. I cannot help but wonder. Are you both alright?"

Merlin paused, glancing at her. He turned to grab the bandages, not saying a word. After a while, he heard her sigh once more.

"There have been rumours."

"Rumours?"

"All throughout Camelot, it seems, it's only just reached the ears of us nobles." Mithian averted her gaze, trying to avoid eye contact completely.

"It's a mere whisper, but, they're saying that, well, part of the reason Arthur's been tense recently is because, you have..."

She trailed off, Merlin had stopped wrapping the bandage around her arm completely. Finally daring to look up, her heart sank as now he refused to look at her.

"It's true?"

"What do you want me to say?" Merlin announced sarcastically, and couldn't help but feel hurt at the shock in Mithian's voice. "Don't worry, Princess, it's all a terrible lie? Or perhaps that I'll never use magic ever again, can you please forgive me?"

"You must understand, I have not had the best experience with magic," she defended herself. "I still have nightmares of Morgana and that dreadful bracelet!"

Merlin's slight anger eased away, aware of that dark time with Mithian under Morgana's control.

"However, I also know that of all people, you would not abuse your magic, Merlin." Mithian said, nodding a bit. "You've always been loyal and kind, only a fool would deny it."

Merlin turned away bashfully, but now forgiving Mithian. "So, everyone knows?"

"It is only a rumour, no one has any proof," she assured him. "Though I suspect it will come up eventually. If not at tonight's feast then certainly in tomorrow's war meeting."

Merlin wasn't surprised. There was bound to be gossip and suspicion, Arthur had to save his sick servant by leaving Camelot? Not to mention the King was not talking to Merlin, very out of character for the both of them. And there must have been someone who perhaps saw a glimpse of the magic Merlin performed the night Morgana attacked Camelot.

It was only a matter of whether the law would be with him or against him once the rumours are confirmed.

Mithian slouched from her perfect posture, glancing out of the window, thin sunlight making her eyes glimmer beautifully.

"Everything is going to change, isn't it?" Her expression became rueful. "The struggle over Albion and the Saxons, the old and new religion, the use of magic and the extermination of it. The stalemate has finally been broken, hasn't it?"

Merlin couldn't help but stare in amazement at the Princess. Considering the amount of royals he had met who were complete buffoons, Mithian was one of the most just and intelligent people he had ever been acquainted with, and she treated him as an equal instead of a servant beneath her.

Tying off the bandage, he stood up, Mithian raising from her own seat. "Whatever happens, we fight for what's right. If nothing else, that alone we ought to be proud of."

The corner of Princess Mithian's mouth tugged up into a crooked but earnest smile. "You're a true friend, Merlin. You're honest. It's what Arthur needs."

She walked to the door, about to exit the room, yet twisted her head round to say, "and thank you for healing my arm."

"Your welcome," Merlin nodded at the retreating Princess.

* * *

Shockingly, Gwaine was _not _at the local tavern!

Deciding to save the drinking until the evening, he took a stroll round the castle grounds, after being one of the few knights who stayed behind to train.

Besides, considering the events and amount of information acquired over the past few days, he did NOT need to blabber to the entire city in a drunken mess.

Turning a corner, he crashed into a body and sent them both tumbling to the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Sir!"

Gwaine smirked. He'd know that voice anywhere, no matter how short an acquaintance he had with the person in question. Glancing up he saw long dark locks hiding what he knew to be round bottle green eyes.

"It was an accident," he spoke, standing up and lending a hand, "don't worry about it."

She froze, taking his hand cautiously as she stood, sweeping the hair out of her face.

"I thought you of all people would be spending the day drinking to your heart's content," Seren announced dryly, a wry smile etched on her lips.

"Good things come to those who wait!" Gwaine laughed, offering his arm. Seren couldn't help but chuckle herself, and with a roll of her eyes she linked arms with him.

"How are you enjoying Camelot?"

"It's different than I imagined it to be," she said. Gwaine frowned in confusion.

"I can't tell whether that's a good or bad thing," he admitted.

"It's good, definitely good!" Seren assured him. Her hands seemed to fidget often, as if there were something missing. "After all the stories I've heard about Uther, I wasn't sure if Arthur would turn out the same."

"Arthur's nothing like Uther," Gwaine said. "I used to hate the nobility with a passion, I wouldn't be a knight if I didn't believe Arthur was different."

"Of course, you were common born," Seren nodded, not noticing Gwaine didn't confirm that. "So what was your first experience of Camelot?"

"Mine? Now that's a story!" He exclaimed. "Let's just say it started with a tavern brawl, and ended with saving the Princess' life in the mêlée."

"Should have known it started with a tavern brawl," Seren said dryly, smiling with mirth. "And what about everything in between? Drinking, fighting, I expect you flirted with all the girls also?"

"Ah, only one named Esmeralda," Gwaine smirked, "and she still rejected me. Said she liked how I tried and knew when to give up."

"Well, that's one out of two," Gwaine's forehead creased, questioning in his eyes. Seren stopped walking, taking her arm from Gwaine's grasp as she arrived at Iseldir's guest room.

"Yes, your determination is admirable," she opened the door.

"But you don't seem to know when to give up."

Gwaine still stood there even after she closed the door. He couldn't help the grin that formed, and no matter what he did, he couldn't get that druid girl out of his head.

She wasn't like all those other maidens. She could handle her own, she was strong, she had a sense of humour. She reminded him of... Himself.

_Maybe tonight will go differently, _he thought, as he wandered off whistling.

* * *

Considering Gwen was not gaining an ounce of rest, the baby was _definitely_ a Pendragon.

From dawn 'till noon Guinevere had been stuck in bed, attempting to gain a few hours of sleep. Now she was awake, and her body couldn't decide whether to get up or to close her eyes again.

Her hand lay to rest on her stomach, where already a small bump was appearing. She wondered how she could have missed it before, but she supposed the duties as Queen and the ongoing war may have distracted her.

Gwen's lips turned up in a loving smile. In seven and a half month's time, there was going to be a little prince or princess in the castle. She always wondered what they would look like; maybe they would have her dark skin, or his golden hair, her curls, his eyes...

"Whatever your appearance," she murmured, "you're going to be strong and wise and brave, just like your father. He's the King, don't you know."

Speak of the devil. The chamber doors opened, Arthur tiptoeing inside so as not to disturb her. "Guinevere?"

She smiled as he sat beside her on the bed. "Don't worry, I'm just more tired these days."

"Are you sure you're OK? I can get a midwife or maid to help you, and you don't need to go to tonight's feast."

"Arthur-"

"Right, it's decided, you can have dinner brought up and I'll just explain that you're feeling unwell-"

"Arthur, you know I have to go to the feast, and I'm fine!" Gwen frowned. "What's wrong?"

Sitting back against the headboard, Arthur felt the pressure drop onto him, and almost subconsciously tried to relieve it by drawing out one long breath.

It wasn't that there was something wrong. It was that something _could _go wrong.

"I've wanted a child for a long time now," he began softly. "But we're in the middle of a war. Who knows how long this conflict will last, and people are going to find out eventually. Morgana is going to find out eventually."

Gwen felt a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. "She wouldn't. I mean- I know for a fact she still wants us to be friends, she wouldn't dare harm my child! She couldn't possibly-"

"That's just it!" Arthur insisted, "she won't think of it as your child. She'll think of it as mine. As the future King or Queen, and not just of Camelot."

Gwen arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Arthur cursed him himself quietly. Ever since Merlin told him about the whole 'Future King of all of Albion' prophecy, it was all he could think about. But no one could know, not even Guinevere. Not yet, anyhow.

"My point is," he continued. "I don't want to have to bring up a baby in the middle of a bloodbath. I don't want you to raise a son or daughter on your own after I've been killed in battle. The timing... It's all wrong..."

Guinevere stared at him. At his bowed head, his slumped shoulders, eyes like the summer sky filled with a storm of guilt and torment and regret. Her own heart felt like tearing at the seams. She placed her dark hand over his pale one.

"I know for a fact, that our child is going to be OK. Do you know how I know?"

Arthur curiously raised his head, his perplexed eyes focused on her. Gwen took his hand, resting it on her stomach.

"Because they already have two loving parents, who are willing to do _anything _for them," the Queen admitted a watery smile. "I know you, Arthur. I know you would raise hell on Earth if it meant doing whatever it takes to protect those you care for. You have nothing to worry about."

Reaching out to brush his fingertips across her cheek, Arthur leaned down and kissed her. The spark, the giddiness, the hunger still remained from the first time his lips touched hers all those years ago. Except now it was more than innocent heart flutterings and blushing faces. Their love became a wild fire that still burned as it had overcome the test of time.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, Guinevere laughed against her husband's mouth. "We still need a name. I have a feeling it's going to be a boy."

"I do not doubt it," Arthur grinned, his breath against her cheek. "What did the druid woman suggest, was it Gareth? That's a strong name. No, I know, Derec! King Derec, I can see it now!"

"I liked Maven," Gwen murmured thoughtfully, though rolling her eyes at Arthur's expression. "Yes, I know, it isn't 'a kingly name'!"

"I simply want a name we can both agree on."

"I hope then that the whole of Camelot is not included in this 'we'! I told you, I want it to be personal as well."

"What, you don't like Derec?"

"Well, it's a nice enough name, I suppose-"

"Let me guess, too formal."

"It is, though!"

"It's not!"

"It is!"

"Not!"

As Gwen playfully grabbed the pillow to swing at his arm, Arthur dodged in the nick of time.

Only for the pillow to hit Merlin directly in the face.

"OK. Maybe I see your point on knocking before entering." Merlin grimaced, holding out a glass vial to Guinevere. "Gaius said it will help with the fatigue."

"Oh, thank you! And thank Gaius for me also," she said sincerely, taking the vial and downing the medicine in one. She made a mental note to talk some sense into her husband, who was pointedly looking away from his manservant. Already the medication was working, her head feeling clearer and free of the subtle headache she had managed to ignore but could not forget about.

Then came the knock on the door.

"Someone who actually thinks before they act," Arthur muttered to the sky. "Enter!"

"Your Grace," Arthur recognised that smooth voice immediately. "Ah, Merlin is here too, that's good."

Iseldir closed the door behind him, standing before the King and Queen and Merlin.

"There is an urgent matter of business we must address, and I fear you may strongly disapprove." The druid Chieftain's brows knitted together in concern. Arthur sat up at once, intrigued and slightly wary.

"Speak, Iseldir," he said kindly. Pausing a bit, Iseldir breathed out.

"I understand you know the Great Dragon Kilgharrah is alive," Iseldir said. At the monarch's nod affirming that fact, he turned to Merlin. "And of Morgana's dragon?"

"You mean that beast that keeps attacking us on my sister's command?"

"Morgan can't command Aithusa," Merlin cut across, not happy with Arthur's description of the poor creature. "Not truly. She's not a dragonlord."

"Alright, you need to explain all this dragonlord business, and _Aithusa_?"

"Basically," Merlin huffed, "you know when we were hunting down Julius Borden and the dragon egg? And you were all knocked out and I said that the tomb of Ashkanar collapsed on both Borden and the egg?"

Arthur groaned once he realised. "You took the egg, didn't you?"

"I'm a dragonlord, I couldn't let the last dragon egg be destroyed," Merlin went pale at the thought.

"The egg must have been centuries old though," Gwen joined in. "How can it hatch?"

"Dragons hatch when a dragonlord gives them a name," he explained. "The eggs can survive for a thousand years at least."

"So, what, you called the dragon Aithusa, then you just let it go?"

"_She_," Merlin emphasised, "went off on her own, Kilgharrah was supposed to be caring for her. Next thing I know, I find her a few years later as a mute, wyvern-sized cripple in Morgana's custody! I don't even know how she could have possibly got that way, and Morgana has some compassion still otherwise she wouldn't love Aithusa so much..."

Arthur grimaced. "Uh, yeah, that would be the Sarrum's fault."

His servant's expression turned dark, cold. "That vicious sadist of Amata who was in Camelot whilst I was gone?"

"Merlin-"

"What did he do?"

Arthur felt the argument leave him. Merlin had never looked so protective, so angry.

"You heard the rumours he locked up Morgana in a pit for two years?"

That said it all. His eyes burned with blue flames, teeth grinding and jaw locked. He collapsed into a chair to the side.

"Why are you talking about dragons, Iseldir?" His voice was a low, savage mutter, the kind that made you stiffen with fear.

Iseldir was no exception. Clearing his throat, he tried to speak again, though the sudden turn of the conversation threw him a bit.

"About a year ago," he started. "We were travelling through Caerleon, specifically the north. I assume you know about the north of Caerleon and it's significance, Sire?"

Arthur nodded, remembering the history and legends he was taught. "The location of the tyrant King Vortigern's tower."

"I remember those stories," Gwen smiled faintly. "Mother told them to me. Legend says Vortigern's tower was halfway built when it then collapsed overnight. No matter how many times they rebuilt the tower, at night it would fall to pieces."

"Vortigern enlisted the help of a sorcerer," Arthur continued, "who dug up the entire tower and left it in ruins. They found two dragons at war with each other, one red and one white. They flew into the sky where the red defeated the white dragon. Afterwards Vortigern left, then later took over Camelot until my father defeated him and took back the kingdom. The scholars always told me the red dragon was Uther, and the white dragon was Vortigern, and the dragon fight was foretelling Vortigern's fate."

"We druids always believed it to be the foretelling of the Great Purge," Iseldir said. "White is generally a symbol of magic, you see. Well as I was saying, we passed the ruins of the tower. But one of us ventured into the pit. And, well..."

Iseldir hesitated. Merlin leaned in with interest, his anger forgotten. "What?"

Glancing up, the druid Chieftain sighed. "We found a dragon's egg."

Merlin's eyes widened, and he stood up instantly. Gwen looked surprised, and Arthur slouched back, not happy with the idea of yet ANOTHER dragon to handle!

"Wait," Arthur registered why Iseldir was bringing up the egg. "You want Merlin to hatch it, don't you?"

At Iseldir's silence, he sprang from his position on the bed, striding to the window. "No. Not a chance!"

"My Lord-"

"I am not having a _dragon_ on the loose in my castle! Especially as we have nearly the whole of Albion next door!"

"Arthur, I'll take full responsibility for him or her-"

"You don't get a say in this, Merlin," the King cut across dangerously, "not this time."

At this comment Merlin couldn't help but be furious.

"I'm a dragonlord, Arthur!" He snapped. "This isn't some silly magic trick, this is about noble creatures I was born to protect. It's bad enough I'm the last dragonlord but Kilgharrah is on his last legs and I am not having Aithusa, no matter what she's done, be the last dragon!"

"Merlin, it's not happening!"

"I don't expect you to understand, when have you ever cared?"

"I care about the lives of innocent people in my protection, people I'm supposed to keep safe from fire breathing beasts!"

"They're not BEASTS! They are intelligent creatures who I CAN look after!"

"Oh REALLY? Because you did SUCH a great job last time!"

_"Enough!"_

Guinevere couldn't take much more of the shouting match. Both Arthur and Merlin were shocked into silence, and Iseldir breathed out in relief that they were finished with their violent spat.

"Merlin, Arthur has a lot on his plate right now, and considering the last time he had to handle a dragon the city was being burned to a crisp, can you blame him for being against the idea?!" Gwen spun on the spot to face her husband.

"And _you_, if Merlin says he can handle the dragon, you have to trust him! Besides, he's a dragonlord! He has full command over the creature anyway! And it would be good starting point for getting sorcerers on our side instead of Morgana's."

After her speech, both men grudgingly agreed to stop bickering. Arthur faced Iseldir.

"Do you have it with you?"

"Seren has it with her, she's waiting outside the door."

After a moment, Arthur reluctantly nudged his head, motioning for them to bring her in.

Soon, Seren strolled in (albeit nervously) with a covered basket.

With everyone gathered around the desk, she set the basket down and picked up the egg.

It was about the size of a squire's helmet, and the shell was coated an ebony black, darker than the night sky. It was so still, it seemed to be a rock rather than a live egg.

Everyone had their gaze fixed on the object. "What now?"

"I give it a name," Merlin replied. He thought long and hard, before one name shone like a beacon in his mind, and it was perfect considering the circumstances.

He inhaled deeply, the power of the dragons flowing through his voice, echoing a thousand ages as he said, _"Tynged."_

The egg cracked down the centre, the shells splitting into separate pieces on the desk.

A tiny, male baby dragon sat on his little hind legs, coal eyes opening blearily to the world. His scales were scarlet and crimson, rich in colour. The creature, small in size, radiated a developing power.

Arthur and Gwen gazed in wonder, they've never seen anything quite like it.

Iseldir and Seren grinned, privileged to witness a rare thing such as a dragon's birth.

"Tynged, a name of the dragon tongue?" Seren asked. "What does it mean?"

Merlin glanced to the side, shrugging sheepishly as Arthur looked up at him.

"Destiny."

* * *

"Your King has abandoned you!"

In the kingdom of Tír Mòr, a sorcerer and a Saxon stood on a platform, in full view of the large crowd gathered in the market square. Guards surrounded the city walls, banners flapping in the wind; an ink black background with a blood red Rowan tree in the centre. Few recognised the same banners in Camelot once. However, there was now a difference, as a white silhouette in the shape of a dragon flew above the tree.

"King Pedran has fled to save his own life. What kind of King is that?" The Saxon spat out, her face twisted in a scowl.

"Queen Morgana will ensure your safety, your rights and your freedom, as long as you swear allegiance to her!" The sorcerer spoke. "All sorcerers are free to practice magic without fear of prosecution, the traitor to magic Emrys is dead by the High Priestess's hand!"

Mixed reactions came from the crowd as the two went on. Magic users in hiding felt relieved, some felt angry that magic was allowed, but all feared the reign of Morgana and the Saxons.

One cloaked figure shook his head in disdain, disappearing from the crowd along with his friends who also donned cloaks.

Once out of the city and in the forest, all three took down their hoods and rolled up their sleeves, revealing the triskelion symbol tattooed on their arms.

"What are we to do, Corann?"

The druid Chieftain in question could only raise his hands in surrender. "I do not know. With Emrys dead and Morgana in power, I suspect we have little choice but to accept it-"

He stopped himself. Perched on the branch in front of him, a little red robin had his little head tilted to the side and a twig-like leg sticking out. In it's grip was a small roll of paper.

Cautiously taking the roll, Corann watched as the bird flew off. He carefully unraveled the paper. His fellow companions watched his face as he read the message within. The emotions ranged from confusion, to shock, to happiness, and finally to determination.

"Gather the rest of the circle," he ordered hurriedly. "We move on West tonight!"

"Tonight?!" One of the druids said in disbelief. "Corann, what does that message say?"

"It is from Iseldir, an old acquaintance from another circle," he could not suppress the hopeful lopsided grin of joy. "Emrys is alive."


	15. The Power Card

**Heyo!**

**I bring forth Chapter 15!**

**Some of you may know but just because, the name Tynged is actually Welsh, and the word literally means destiny. I didn't know where I was going to find a dictionary to translate the dragon tongue into English!**

**Thank you for the reviews, they help a lot. For various stuff in the last chapter, I recommend searching them up if you want to understand the real legend of Merlin. You know, Blaise, Vortigern's tower, hint hint...**

**But anyway, this chapter should fulfil all Merlin fanfiction requirements!**

**Enjoy!**

**(P.S, I decided to change the blurb, didn't like it any more ;-D)**

* * *

The welcoming feast was in full swing by the late evening.

The servants were gossiping, the nobles were dancing, the knights were drinking and the whole room was laughing. By nearly the witching hour even some of the druids were far too merry to worry over the situation.

The feast did what it was meant to do; distract everyone from the real problems at hand, at least for the moment.

Though no one could possibly ignore the manservant attempting to subtly stand by Arthur's side, and failing at that. It was a bit difficult to remain inconspicuous when he had wild hair that seemed to have been electrified then dragged through a bush, and smudges of dirt and soot on his cheeks that hid the rising blush very well.

Arthur tried to keep listening to Lord Rowley's riveting tale of an incident on his home the Isle of Mora, but all he could focus on was his bumbling fool of a servant who had the appearance of someone who's just been baked in the oven.

Cue laughter. "My word, Rowley!"

"Indeed!" The Lord was oblivious to the act. "Ah, Lady Joan calls, I shall have to leave you, Arthur."

With a curt bow and a raised eyebrow at the servant, the middle aged Lord left to attend to his wife.

Arthur plastered a smile on his face, raising his empty cup to the side.

"Can't you keep that _thing_ under control, Merlin?" he spoke through gritted teeth, his fake grin intact as his cup filled with blood red wine. Merlin huffed indignantly.

"Baby dragons can be temperamental!" he defended himself, wiping his face with his sleeves and patting his hair down, "Tynged is just going through a phase. Besides, red dragons are known to be quite over protective and emotional."

"Fine!" Arthur surrendered with a sigh, knowing this was a battle he couldn't win.

"Arthur!" Guinevere beamed, flushed after dancing with King Lucas of Deira. "You wouldn't _believe _what Lucas told me about-"

Gwen stopped, blinking with wide eyes at the state of Merlin. "Um..."

"Yes, I get it!" Merlin rolled his eyes. "I'm the carer of a fire breathing reptile with a toddler's temper tantrum. Is that such a crime?!"

"Well, technically it is," Gwen had to admit with a sheepish shrug. Merlin threw his hands up in the air, marching away with the excuse of filling the wine jug. Arthur and Guinevere gave each other one look, and burst into giggles.

Meanwhile, Sir Gwaine was busy jesting with his comrades, but wasn't entirely in the mood. His goblet was glued to his hand, but he never once drunk the liquid inside. His mind wasn't entirely on the conversation, and every so often he glanced across the room. In particular, at the beautiful woman sitting with her fellow friends. She was not dressed up, her borrowed blue dress was simple enough and her hair pinned back slightly. She did not interact with anyone else, she seemed rather content to sit and enjoy her meal. But her bold eyes glimmered in the light from the golden candles, her cheeks stood out from her pale skin, red with both the drink and the atmosphere, and her smile... Nothing compared to a wide smile full of laughter and joy.

Gwaine couldn't tear his eyes away. He was well and truly happy to remain there for the rest of the night.

Percival, on the other hand, was not. It was not like his good friend to be in an irrational state.

He walked to his side, his hand landing on Gwaine's shoulder. "What's gotten into you?"

For the first time in a while, Gwaine's eyes turned away from the object of his attentions. "What?"

"You've hardly eaten, you haven't danced with any Lady, and you can't seem to go five minutes without turning back to the druid girl-"

"Seren," Gwaine cut across to Percival's disbelief. "Her name is Seren."

"Alright, how much have you drunk?" Percival smirked, glancing at the cup in the knight's hand, still filled to the brim. "How many cups is that, then? Three, four?"

"Still the first," Gwaine muttered, turning back to Seren who was now in peals of laughter. It sounded like delicate bells chiming, or it did to the Knight of the Round Table at least.

Percival took a cautious step back. This was more serious than he thought. Any knight who drank one cup of wine he could understand suddenly being infatuated with one fair maiden at a fancy party. But this was Gwaine, notorious drinker, womaniser, all-time bachelor. Percival wasn't prepared for a sober and delirious moping idiot who had fallen head over heels for one woman!

Head over heels...

"Oh no," he groaned, now seeking out the King. "Gwaine, are you saying you're-"

"Yeah," Gwaine huffed out a laugh, as if curious. "I think I am."

Arthur had finished talking with Guinevere, as she went to chat with more of the royals. He sighed, quite tired already but the night was still young. To be honest, it wasn't the feast that was tiring him out, it was everything else that occurred over the past few days all piling into one load, dropping on to his shoulders.

And Sir Percival's grave expression as he came over did nothing to ease the load.

"Sire, we have a problem." Percival's tone of despair caused Arthur to fear the worst.

"Is it the borders? It's not from Gaius about Gwen and the baby is it? Is Morgana-"

"Gwaine says he's in love," Percival blurted out. Arthur slumped in annoyance, rolling his eyes up to the heavens in exasperation as he lifted the goblet to his lips.

"Percival, I hardly think that warrants my full attention."

"My Lord, you don't understand," the knight insisted add Arthur drank. "He hasn't consumed a single drop of wine!"

Arthur coughed violently, choking on his drink. Percival had to slap his back until the King could breathe again.

"You're telling me," Arthur gasped, "that Gwaine is claiming he's in love whilst _sober__?!_"

* * *

"This is a lovely feast."

Guinevere jumped in fright, turning to find the source of the voice.

Queen Anna stood before her, cream hands clasped together and jewel green eyes wincing in apology.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she admitted a small smile.

Guinevere smiled brightly in comparison, shaking her head. "Don't worry, I've been a bit jumpy these past few days."

"I've heard." Gwen's smile disappeared in the blink of an eye, Anna back to her usual, expressionless face.

Gwen hesitated for a moment. "Have you heard anything in particular?"

"Merely rumours, though I'm having a difficult time believing any of them." Both Queens sat on the chairs at the nearest table. "You travelled for a couple of days in order to cure Arthur's _servant?_"

"Merlin is a loyal friend to both of us," Gwen said defensively.

"Yet countless other citizens suffered injuries also, and this Merlin had injuries so great both of Camelot's rulers trekked through dangerous lands to heal him?" When Gwen didn't respond, Anna chuckled.

"I'm not expecting you to answer," she sat back in her chair. "I'm simply curious."

"I was told you were intelligent," Guinevere narrowed her dark eyes. "I was warned not to underestimate you."

"I was told the same about you!" Anna said in a surprisingly chirpy tone. "You were also a servant before you married Arthur, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was."

"I think that particular rumour intrigued me the most; King Arthur marrying a hand maiden for love. You must understand, for a cynic such as myself who married for power your story seems like some wishful fairytale to me."

"Are you suggesting I don't love Arthur?"

"Goodness, never!" Anna dissolved into laughter. "It's painstakingly obvious you two adore each other. I'm simply impressed. You've done well for yourself, proven to be as smart, graceful and beautiful as any noble Lady, all because you were innocent and kind enough to fall in love with a prince."

Gwen bowed her head bashfully, embarrassed with the amount of praise she was receiving. "Do you not believe in love?"

"I believe certain people are capable of it, and with others it is not meant to be," Anna said simply. "Lot and I, we both played the power card when marrying each other. We both knew we weren't made to fall in love. In the end, I think myself and Lot are a good match, we're both so similar and we've become good friends."

Gwen smiled again, but her eyebrows knitted together with slight confusion. "I could never marry for convenience. I was born a commoner, I was always told I could marry for love if I wished to. Be with someone without strings attached or any complications."

"Must have been nice," Anna commented wistfully.

They stayed in comfortable silence for a bit, listening to the chatter and guffaws and the stomping of dancing feet.

Gwen couldn't help but like the Queen of Essetir. She was quite intimidating, and her sceptical mind was the complete opposite of Gwen's sense of faith and seeing the good in people. But she did not shy away from the truth and was very easy to talk to. And the Queen relished the opportunity to speak with another in the same position as herself, to converse with a sharp-witted woman on equal terms.

"You do realise soon both our husbands will be at each other's throats?" Guinevere added nonchalantly. Anna grinned with mirth.

"Men," she uttered, "I'm surprised they've kept away from each other this long!"

Gwen giggled, "I just don't understand how they could loathe each other at first sight like that!"

"Who knows how the male mind works?" Anna shrugged, albeit not in a very ladylike manner. Then she retreated back to her poker face, suddenly appearing wise beyond her years and regal with her white gold hair pinned up high and her indigo dress flaring out behind her, with her emerald eyes turning dangerous in a subtle way.

"I like you Guinevere, I really do," her voice was not false. She turned her head from side to side slowly. "But I enjoy power more. I have an unhealthy satisfaction with winning, and if it ever came to war between Camelot and Essetir-"

"I understand," Gwen said, making it easier for the point to get across. She may feel a bit upset at the fact, but she was not naïve. "I expected nothing less."

Most would take offence to that comment, but Anna understood. She gave a lopsided smirk, raising one golden eyebrow.

"Many would think our personalities would clash, but I enjoy your optimism and honesty. It's refreshing and very uncommon among most Queens, and I include myself."

Just then a servant came round, holding a fresh tray of goblets full of wine. "My Queens?"

"Thank you, Morris," Guinevere smiled at him as both ladies took a goblet, Morris giving a tiny smile back before moving away. Anna gazed remarkably at the scene, before bringing the cup to her lips.

Suddenly, both women stopped before they could drink a single drop, realising what was in the cups. They both stared at the other.

"You're not drinking," Anna noted. Gwen nudged her head towards her.

"Neither are you."

"Well I know why I can't drink."

"Can't?"

Almost instinctively, their eyes were drawn down to the other's waist, before shooting back up to look at each other in shock.

* * *

"You weren't exaggerating, Percy!" Leon announced, staring weirdly at Gwaine who he had gripped by the arm and dragged him over to Arthur per his request. Gwaine pulled his arm away, his hand coming up to nurse it.

"Um, ow?!" He complained. At least there was some of Gwaine in there still.

"So what's this about you being in love with a druid girl called Seren?" Arthur questioned, getting straight to the point.

Gwaine reverted back to his dreamy expression, turning back to gaze at her. With her long brown hair and bottle-green eyes, her cool nature yet fighting spirit...

"They should write documented studies on this," Leon marvelled quietly, not taking his eyes off his friend.

"Gwaine," Percival tried to get his attention. "If this just happened overnight-"

"It didn't just happen," Gwaine finally spoke. He frowned, as if trying to recall a foggy memory. "I don't know, one moment I'm just intrigued by her during small, stolen moments, and the next thing I know I see her tonight and..."

He trailed off, but before anyone could get a word in Queen Annis near enough staggered over. Her tipsy state may have been considered improper, if it weren't for the other rulers being in the same situation.

"Arthur, the pork was _delicious_," she said, slurring towards the end.

Whilst Arthur spoke off the top of his head, the knights all bowed curtly. Annis peered at Gwaine in particular. All this time she has been trying to recall where she could have seen him before. It was driving her insane, she knows she recognises him.

One glance at the dragon scale necklace and ring around his neck, and the light switched on inside her head.

"Oh, of course!" The Queen exclaimed. "You're Sir Rhobert's son!"

Everyone spun around immediately, the shock evident on their faces.

"Yes, I remember you now!" Annis wore a melancholic smile. "I was close friends with your mother, Lady Lynette, she always was very beautiful. YOU were the little rascal running through the castle with the other boys, caused mayhem wherever you went! No one could blame you though, you always put on a playful grin and all was forgiven. And your sister, such a pretty girl, certainly inherited your mother's looks. I was visiting another kingdom when I heard your father died in battle and you and your mother left Caerleon. The last I heard from all of Sir Rhobert's family."

It was then that Lord Benedict caught her attention, and she strode over to meet the Earl. Meanwhile however, both the King and the rest of the knights could not stop staring at Gwaine, who wanted nothing more than for the floor to swallow him whole to avoid the sudden announcement.

"OK," he said slowly in the awkward silence, "yes, I was born a noble, but-"

Out of the corner of his eye, Gwaine noticed a druid enter the room. His face was haggard, and radiating fear. Soon the others followed Gwaine's example, watching the druid rush to Iseldir, talking at the speed of light.

Iseldir's silvery eyes widened with astonishment, and he immediately stood and strode to Arthur.

"Sire," he began with a warning tone. "I apologise, this will certainly end the feast very soon, but I didn't expect them to answer so quickly, never mind make the _journey_ so quickly..."

"What are you trying to say, Iseldir?" Arthur rose from his seat, heart beginning to beat faster with growing panic.

Then the doors opened again.

A tall figure draped in a navy cloak glided in, head covered with a large hood. All attention was drawn to them; the music had stopped, the dancing paused abruptly, and pompous chatter was reduced to hushed whispering.

"King Arthur?"

Arthur did a double take for a second there, as the stranger's voice belonged to a woman. The figure was simply quite tall, he thought her to be a young man, but now he could see she was quite slender also, not possessing a masculine stature at all.

The woman drew her hood back enough to reveal her face. She had a light tan, a slightly long face, but her hair was not visible and the colour of her eyes were cloaked by the shadows.

"Sire, forgive me," she began softly, "my druid circle lies outside Camelot's borders, we have heard news that Emrys is in fact alive."

Now the hushed whispers broke out into audible gossip. Amidst the rabble of noise, Arthur looked back to check this with Merlin. But Merlin shook his head, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. If this woman was a druid, she should have recognised him by now. He even tried calling out to her telepathically, but she did not so much as flinch.

Merlin's stance changed, standing taller and he became more alert. This was enough of a warning for Arthur.

"Are you a druid yourself?"

The woman hesitated, bowing her head a bit in embarrassment. Part of her hair shone, and for a moment, Percival narrowed his eyes, an old memory appearing in his mind though he could not recall it.

"I was taken in by the druids a few years ago, when they helped me recover after my family was killed. I was not born a druid, and I do not have magic, if that's what you are worried about. It is also why they sent me in the first place." She pulled down the sleeve on her right arm, and lo and behold, there was no triskelion mark.

Suddenly, the memory came into Percival's mind, several in fact. Back in the days before his village was raided, when his family was alive. The family he believed to be slaughtered.

_"Rhoslyn?!"_

Everyone turned their heads to look at Sir Percival, who all of a sudden soared from his chair, staring wide eyed at the woman in disbelief.

The woman herself finally noticed the knight, in which her own eyes widened to the size of watermelons. She drew back her hood completely, in which most people gasped.

The similarity was uncanny.

The same sandy brown hair, reaching just past her shoulders and was poker straight. The fringe fell into her large eyes, a mixture of sea blue and stone grey, her eyebrows the same faint blonde colour and largish ears that were hidden by her long tresses.

"Percy," she breathed, a wide, joyful grin growing on her lips.

"Percival, you know her?" Arthur knew the answer, but he had to ask. Percival nodded absentmindedly, still in a daze and not quite believing who stood before him at that very moment.

"She's my sister."


	16. Morgan Le Fay

**Hi! Quite a lot of drama for one feast, right?!**

**Anyway, the chapter of reckoning has come, but I will say no more of that! Thanks for the reviews last chapter, they really meant a lot to me, and don't be afraid to say anything you didn't like, or I could improve on. The reader's opinion is a writer's bread and butter! :-D**

**So I hope you like this chapter, enjoy!**

* * *

Arthur was ready to unsheathe his sword and slit his own throat.

"MORE DRUID CIRCLES OUTSIDE CAMELOT?!"

"I've never _heard_ of such a thing!"

"Have you NO respect for your father's ways, boy?"

"It's no WONDER your sister has been led astray-"

Arguments, threats and jibes were sent left and right from nearly every monarch. Arthur believed at the beginning that none of them had a hope at working together, he was certainly proven wrong. Only that they worked together against _him_.

Alined, Cadmon, Olaf and Taranis were against him, though that made sense; excusing the Lady Vivian who doesn't really count, none of the kings of the Five Kingdoms had an heir. Meaning Arthur was most likely set to inherit _all _their lands. A fact they clearly did not like.

Sarrum II lived up to his father's reputation, and it was scary how much he sounded like his father. He was the main instigator of the outcries that followed, not only to rally against Arthur but as he hated magic as much as the ruler before him. Reynard, the ancient fool, was stuck in his old ways and would not hear a word of allowing magic folk to be within Camelot's borders if he was there himself, and the same went for his three children the Princes Urien and Owain and the Princess Helewise.

Arthur wasn't surprised that Bayard and Odin joined the opposing ranks. They were the ones that disliked either him or Camelot the most, perhaps excusing Sarrum. King Lucas was a smart and loyal man, but even he did not like the sound of magic users staying within Camelot's borders. Duty compelled his wife Adelaide to join his side, but she did not hold the same views and was attempting to stabilise the growing fight.

Now Lot, he was against Arthur simply for the sake of challenging him. Anna of course was the voice of reason for both sides, yet she still had to shake her head with Guinevere, who was sat beside her husband.

The only ones left on Arthur's side were Rodor and Mithian, Godwyn and Elena, Rowley and Joan, Annis, Pedran, and Benedict.

Not a great start, first thing in the morning.

"If you can't control your own kingdom, _Arthur_," Alined sneered, "when we have all flocked like sheep to escape our own damaged homes, expecting you to be able to handle a few druids, what does that say about you?"

"That's quite a hypocritical accusation, don't you think?" Rowley announced dangerously. "It's a rude way to behave towards someone who has graciously accepted almost all of Albion into his domain!"

Sarrum banged a fist on the table. "No one can escape their own laws! Sorcerers have been causing riot for decades, you can't actually be allowing them to walk under the same roof, can you?"

"They are people, just like everyone at this table!"

"They've murdered!"

"They've rampaged!"

"And so we are simply going to blame the many based on the actions of the few?"

"This will not end well, and we all know it!"

"We are facing Morgana and her band of sorcerers and Saxons! We need the druid camps on our side fighting for us, _and we all know it!_"

Arthur was about to shout down at the pack of them, at this point. Just as he was preparing for his voice to shatter at the volume, someone else rose from their seat.

Queen Guinevere had simply stood up in a calm manner, not one frown line on her face. Her hands were locked together and resting in front of her crimson red gown, and her eyes were serene, patient. She exuded such sophistication, such poise, such control, that all felt compelled to obey her silent command and compose themselves. In fact, many deep down felt embarrassed at their lack of civility that the Queen of Camelot was demonstrating at that moment.

Guinevere, on the other hand, had been on the verge of popping a blood vessel. She had been to hundreds of meetings with their fair share of arguments in her three years of ruling, and she was used to the high levels of tension and foolish shouting.

She supposed it was her rising hormones, never had she felt that angry before. It took everything she had to not utter a word as she stood to gain the attention of the room.

"I recall it being mentioned, that a few of you would explain just how Morgana managed to overtake most of the kingdoms in Albion in only a couple of days?" Gwen's voice was eerily soft.

Arthur sighed as his wife sat in her seat once more. Even he felt the emotion thickening the air, now he was glad the fog was clearing. He felt as if he could breathe easily again.

His mind flashed back to the tedious night before, when Percival's sister led him out of the castle and into the forest...

* * *

_"So you're the famous Emrys I hear the druids talk about?" Rhoslyn asked to a stumbling Merlin, as they trampled through fallen branches and hanging leaves._

_"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am." Merlin shook his head at the word 'famous'. He would never get used to attention, that's what Arthur was for. Yes, the druids all knew him of course, but he forgot just how many druid circles there actually were left in Albion. Not many, but still enough to constitute as a large amount._

_"...Can I see a bit of magic?" Rhoslyn grinned sheepishly, but the curiosity in her sea and stone eyes peered straight through the young warlock._

_"I can't," Merlin shrugged in apology. "Not right now. Long story, I'll explain when I get to your camp."_

_"So you're Percival's sister?" Arthur popped up from behind, more than willing to let those two lead the way to a druid camp he may not be warmly welcomed into._

_Rhoslyn bowed her head. "Yeah, I thought he died the day Cenred-"_

_She choked on her words. Both Arthur and Merlin went forward to help her, but she waved them off, turning her back on them. Her shoulders rose with her deep breath, and she continued on with a closed off expression._

_"Percy and I also had two other siblings, Aglovale and Dindrane. The day Cenred's men raided our village, for the usual taxes and grain supply again, they decided to kill every last villager like pigs for slaughter when we didn't give them enough of what they wanted. Cenred declared us to be a waste on his property. Mother and Father, Aglovale and Dindrane, I know they died. I either saw their bodies or watched them get killed right before my eyes. But Percival, I just assumed he died like the rest. I thought I was the only one to escape. Clearly I was wrong!" Rhoslyn laughed, traces of regret and mourning vanished into thin air. She turned to her companions again. "I was cut in the midst of it all, the wound got infected. I remember stumbling across a druid circle, and they took me in. The women healed me, the elders let me stay with them, I mean, where else could I go? The magic took a bit of getting used to, I wasn't all that comfortable with it at first, but I grew to like it." _

_She shrugged nonchalantly, glancing at Arthur with a lopsided smirk. "My brother's a knight, huh?" she laughed. "How on earth did that happen?"_

_"He managed to trigger rocks to crush Morgana and Morgause's knights, the first time my sister took Camelot's crown. He saved all of our lives, I honestly thought he was sent from the _gods _the first time I saw him!" Arthur marvelled at the memory. "I made him a knight along with a few others who were of common birth, we defeated Morgana and Morgause, he's been a Knight of the Round Table ever since."_

_"A knight," Rhoslyn murmured, a confused smile plastered on her lips. "Percy was always meant to be a farmer one day, you know."_

_Merlin sniggered in the background. "A farmer? Percival? I think he's more suited to fighting than planting!"_

_A few more jokes here and there, then they saw dark shapes around them. Tall shadows, flickers of amber light._

_The darkness then scurried away, a camp fire illuminating the many tents and people in the clearing before them. Men, women and children who donned hooded cloaks of all colours and sizes, and who all turned their attention to the new arrivals._

_One man stood up swiftly, striding over to the new comers. Drawing back his hood revealed greying mud brown hair, weathered skin and aged eyes coloured like holly leaves. he froze immediately at the sight of Merlin.  
_

_"You really are alive," he whispered, head whipping back and forth between Arthur and Merlin. "Sire, Emrys... the prophecies are joining together..."_

_Almost every druid bowed their respects to both individuals. Both men turned wide eyed to the other, but then hastily turning away at the reminder of their shaky friendship._

_"Hey, Corann, I'd like you to meet Emrys and King Arthur," Rhoslyn muttered under her breath light heartedly, a bubble of laughter threatening to burst from her at the druid Chieftain's awed demeanour. Corann turned on her with eyebrow raised._

_"I heard that," he said dryly. "Follow me, Sire, we have much to discuss."_

* * *

Percival still couldn't believe his eyes.

As soon as the surprised monarchs adjourned for the evening, and his sister had returned from escorting Arthur and Merlin to the druid circle, he swept her up in a bone crushing hug. He was not one for speaking much, he usually let his actions speak for him, but he may have gone overboard with the hug.

"Percy-crushing-ribs!" Rhoslyn wheezed.

He pretty much dropped her immediately, both laughing their heads off.

Nothing more was said, they were just happy to have found each other when they thought they had lost everything. Percival escorted Rhoslyn to a spare chamber, and he returned to his own, both gaining a peaceful sleep. Now it was morning, they woke, dressed, ate, and were taking a walk through the gardens. Arthur was preoccupied with the ranting rulers, meaning the knights had nothing to do at the present moment. His friends knew he needed space right now, time alone to talk to his sister.

Though if he was being honest, it was Rhoslyn doing most of the talking:

"So what's it like being a knight?"

"The others treat you fairly, right? I don't want any bullying just because your common born!"

"Oh, what am I saying, who would dare try and bully _you_? You're such a sweetheart and you'd crush them anyway."

"Yeah, you've definitely grown taller, family height inheritance right there. Ooh! Can you teach me how to wield a sword-"

She went on, and on, and _on_. Percival had forgotten how many times a day in the past he felt like tearing the hair off his head because the little chatterbox wouldn't shut up!

"You're not saying much."

That caught Percival's attention. Rhoslyn glanced back at him, a few steps ahead. Her head tilted to the side like a curious animal, a questioning smile on her lips.

"You never used to say much, I suppose," she admitted. "But something is on your mind, isn't there?"

Percival paused for a moment, but he shook his head. "Everything that's happened over the past week, it's a lot to take in. Finding out one of my siblings is alive after how many years I believed everyone I knew to be dead? That's the icing on the cake."

Rhoslyn bit her cheek. "Yeah, well, it was a bit of a surprise for me too, and I've been handling a lot of stress lately also. The entire druid circle were stuck in King Pedran's lands, which was overtaken by Saxons and populated with more sorcerers than ever! They actually locked up the knights and executed anyone who stood in their way! The amount of banners they have flying everywhere, that Rowan tree-"

"What?" Percival cut across suddenly, shocked at the words. Rhoslyn was startled, she had never seen her brother so worked up before.

"The flags," she spoke slowly, "They replaced Pedran's house banners with Morgana's own, a blood red leafless tree with a white dragon above it. The druids told me it's a symbol of the Rowan tree that grows at the heart of the Isle of the Blessed, and the dragon can only mean that blasted creature Le Fay keeps with her."

Percival sighed deeply. This was bad, just like the last time this happened. The last time, Morgana never put up those banners until she had took over Camelot. Morgana had the numbers, the magic and the confidence, and this was her way of saying she owns the kingdoms. She came, she saw, she conquered.

"Le Fay?" Percival asked perplexed.

"They all call her Morgan Le Fay, now," Rhoslyn rolled her eyes. "It means 'Morgana the Fairy', just another fancy title, but titles have influences over people. It's not a good thing she is getting recognition at all."

Percival went quiet again, agreeing with his sister's words. He turned his head, fighting against the morning light to wince at the castle.

"Let's hope all goes well with Albion's rulers in there."

* * *

It was King Odin who began to explain how Morgana took all the kingdoms at once.

"I didn't know for sure until others shared their accounts," he grumbled, "but now it's clear. Morgana's army of Saxon's is large, of a substantial amount, in fact. Some from overseas, others from throughout Albion, but the highest source of numbers came from the East, in the bordered Saxon kingdom of Anglia."

_"King Oswin," _pretty much everyone spat out his name, muttered it, pulled a disgusted face or gained a murderous gleam in their eyes. Even Guinevere, who did not hold the same level of animosity as she had not grown up with the hatred towards the King of the Saxons, had winced as she knew all about him.

Oswin established his own kingdom on the East coast of Albion decades ago, when he was but a young Saxon soldier travelling across the seas. That was when the first Saxons started arriving. He rose to the ranks, managed to overthrow the King of the area and claimed the land for himself. This would be a lovely bedtime fairytale, if he was at all a good hero. The land of Anglia, which he had named after his own people, became bordered to anyone outside. Saxons settled down, but the natives of Albion were either forced to flee or were sent to their deaths. Oswin was by no means a fair ruler, and after those terrible years of bloodshed, the Kings and Queens of Albion would despise him forever more.

"Yes, King Oswin," Odin nearly growled. "Morgana already had the sorcerers on her side, with the Saxons she could divide them up and send them out to win over each individual kingdom. With her numbers, she probably attacked four at a single time."

"But then how did none of us realise our next door neighbour's kingdom was being attacked, going up in smoke?" Princess Elena demanded to know.

"Magic," King Olaf piped up, carrying on from where Odin left off. "I sent one of my knights to investigate. It looks like the sorcerers used their gifts; they cast a spell over the kingdom borders with each kingdom they attacked, making it seem as if nothing had happened. I know for a fact Elmet had great fires everywhere. When I passed over the border? Not one tendril of smoke could be seen."

Everyone murmured to their partners, children, anyone on their side, and all whispers were anxious.

"No communications, no way of knowing Morgana's next move," Arthur scoffed at himself, "we never stood a chance."

"We have more druid circles coming in," Gwen reminded him, reflecting on the positives. "With the right amount of magic users on our side-"

"Guinevere, I'm sorry, but I don't think many are on board with the idea of more druids and sorcerers taking refuge in Camelot. That callous Sarrum has a point. My laws ban the use of magic. I can't simply ignore them, this isn't all that simple."

"Then change the laws."

"I can't-"

"Can't or won't?" Gwen snapped. At Arthur's startled look, she breathed out sharply, but her impatience remained. "After all you know, all he's done, you still can't forgive him, can you?"

Arthur's expression suddenly turned cold, refusing to acknowledge the statement. He became hyper aware of his servant standing dutifully behind him, he was probably rolling his eyes and giving individual nicknames to each ruler at that moment.

Can't or won't. Can't change the laws, or won't? Can't forgive his servant, or won't?

It was a question Arthur had tried for so long to ignore, and he would continue doing so for as long as he could.

"Well now that's out of the way, there's still another matter to address." Lot had spoken above the ramblings, dark eyes releasing an almost predatory vibe that would immediately put others in their place.

Arthur bristled. "And what is that?"

Lot simply glared at Arthur, keeping his black irises on Arthur's blue ones as he pointed a finger behind the King of Camelot.

"Him."

Everybody spun, facing the frozen Merlin, who had stilled in the action of picking at his neck tie in sheer boredom.

He certainly wasn't bored any more.

Guinevere looked at Anna, a betrayed expression adorning her features. Anna assured her she wasn't interested in an answer concerning the mystery and rumours surrounding Merlin.

With a dip of her head, Anna told Gwen the truth. Yes, she said she didn't need to know. But Anna made no such promises towards her husband.

Merlin, meanwhile, was dealing with the piling criticisms and allegations towards him.

"I heard the druids look up to him as some kind of leader!" King Reynard exclaimed.

"Oh nonsense, that boy is loyal to a ridiculous degree!" Lord Bayard dismissed, his booming voice echoing across the Round Table. "He drank from a cup he knew to be poisoned, just to protect the then Prince Arthur! Being associated with magic would be a treasonous act!"

"Not all magic is considered treasonous, Lord Bayard," Princess Mithian insisted strongly. Her father King Rodor merely sat back surprised at the passion in her voice, but said nothing. Mithian glanced at Merlin, concern reflected in her golden brown eyes, fearing for her friend's life.

Both King Lucas and Queen Adelaide seemed suspicious. "This coming from the young woman who suffered under Morgana's hand directly."

"The point is!" Queen Annis stressed, tired of the stupid comments getting them nowhere. "Merlin is in no way evil, or disloyal, he's merely a manservant!"

"Yes, but is he magic? You never denied it, Annis," Alined barked. Merlin grew wary, and became quite irritated at the contemptuous looks he was receiving.

As they continued arguing - Taranis bringing up Emrys, Cadmon enquiring as to Arthur and Guinevere's rescue mission - Merlin contemplated on whether or not just to get it over with.

You would have thought the monarchs would just ask him outright if he was a sorcerer or not, but no, Merlin was far too beneath them for _that_.

Mithian already said they heard the rumours. The druids' fascination with him was no secret, they weren't exactly discreet about it. Mithian, Annis, Arthur and Gwen already know about his magic, what difference will another dozen people make?

Apart from those who want to tear any magic user limb from limb.

Merlin internally sighed in exasperation. Whether they liked it or not, they needed him. They needed the druids. They needed him and Arthur working together most of all (though they do not know it yet) if the prophecies were ever going to come true. The good prophecies that is, he was still trying to figure out a way to stop the Mordred prophecy from happening.

"...Look! Stop asking all these ridiculous questions!" Arthur groaned, hand on head.

"But the boy-"

"If he really is-"

"One of them-"

"That's defying your own laws, Arthur-"

"Merlin is a normal-"

"Just like the rest of us-"

"So you're just going to ignore the fact-"

"He should be _hanged _if he is a-"

"Don't be so foolish-"

"Can you all _please_ just-"

"Oh for GOODNESS sake - I'm a SORCERER! There, _HAPPY?!_"

He didn't mean to blurt that out. He was still trying to think of how to best control the situation, but these _idiots_... they were worse than Arthur...

Speaking of Arthur, he turned in his chair when the room went deadly silent. Turned right round to come face to face with his pale white servant with a look of horror.

_"Are you insane?" _he whispered through gritted teeth. All Merlin could do was shrug a shoulder.

"Probably," he admitted, fearing the worst.

Yet the room still remained soundless, not a soul dared to even breathe by the looks of it.

"Prove it."

The lone voice was from Queen Anna, emerald eyes locked on Merlin in steely determination.

Merlin hadn't thought about that little detail. Proof... that may be a problem...

"I, uh, can't," he said with a sheepish, unsure smile.

"You _can't_?" Anna's reputation preceded her, Merlin found her very intimidating.

"There's a slight temporary issue, where my magic is a bit chaotic-"

"So what you're saying is," Lot interrupted, "You're the great and powerful Emrys, and you can't use your magic?"

Most of the magic haters forgot their hatred for a minute, too busy snickering at the irony. Merlin felt insulted, walking forwards to join them at the table.

"Unless you'd like to be thrown back ten feet because I can't handle my magic that has become increasingly powerful over the past few days, I would stop laughing!"

Those that laughed instantly stopped, glowering at the servant. Sarrum was the first to rise, raising a fist.

"You should be executed! Instead you're roaming the castles by the king's side as a free man!" he raged. Others joined him, standing at his side.

"He should be arrested!"

"Locked up in the dungeons!"

"Like the rest of his kind!"

As shouts, shrieks and orders rang from nearly every person at that table, Merlin couldn't help but feel wounded. Here he was, putting his life on the line in the hope they would all come together in the end. He bargained his life, now it appeared he was about to lose it.

Until of all people, Arthur rose to his defence. "Enough! Yes, Merlin is Emrys. Yes, he has magic and yes, many of you are against magic. But do you honestly expect to win this war without magic? Morgana has hundreds of sorcerers armed against us, people she knows will join her because they've been hurt by us, the very people who vowed to protect them! I know the damage magic can cause, I've taken the brunt of it all my life, but now I can see the good magic can do as well! The good in the druids, especially, and we need them. We need all the support we can get."

"Arthur, Morgana has broken our people, our homes," Lord Godwyn said with defeat.

"She hasn't broken us," Arthur glanced at each and every one of them. "We need to work together in this. It's the only way we can stop Morgana once and for all. We need to trust each other."

They all took in his words. Lot cleared his throat.

"You're capable of trusting us?" At Arthur's nod, he pointed at Merlin again. "But can you trust him?"

That was a question Arthur wasn't prepared for. He felt Merlin's eyes burning holes into the side of his head, but he didn't want to turn around.

Maybe in time, he could forgive him, be friends with him again, talk easily to him again. But could he trust him?

...He honestly didn't think he could.

That was when a piercing, animalistic shriek shot through everyone's heads, hands flying to ears. All had instinctively crouched to the height of the table. A smallish shadow bobbed up and down on the wall, and peeking at the windows one could just about spot a creature with wings, like a bird but less feathery, and coloured in various shades of bright red.

Merlin, Arthur and Guinevere's jaws dropped in recognition.

"Uh oh." Merlin winced.


End file.
